


Three Perfectly Awful Days in Honolulu - Part 4 of The Telephone Rang

by LadyOscar



Series: The Telephone Rang [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-O (1968)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Crime, Friendship, Hijacking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-26
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOscar/pseuds/LadyOscar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny and Steve realize how much they care for each other, as a hijacking threatens to end their partnership forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is actually the part of “The Telephone Rang” that I started writing down first, way back in February. I wanted to have some practice at a more straightforward action/angst story before I tried setting up Steve and Danny’s relationship, and I felt that as airplane hijackings were popular in the ’70s, it was about time Five-O dealt with one. I’ve edited the text a lot over time, but I apologize if it still bears some of the roughness of a first attempt. My thanks to Janet and Jen, who read through this chapter for me at various times.
> 
> The story takes place during season 3, shortly after “Shame and Memories.” If you haven’t read the earlier parts of “The Telephone Rang,” the most relevant fact is that Danny and Steve have been lovers since first season, though they live separately for the look of things. Chin knows, Kono doesn’t.
> 
> My apologies to United Airlines for using them in this context. Just as I rarely fly with anyone else, I couldn’t imagine having a hijacking with any other airline. I must also apologize for making the title of this story a take-off on the useful and entertaining column “Three Perfect Days in (City Name)” that appears in United’s in-flight magazine.
> 
> The imaginary country of Curaguay is homage to the ’80s TV series “Hunter.”
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters of Hawaii Five-O don’t belong to me. The original characters and plot do.

Steve McGarrett unlocked the door to his condo.  The trade winds which usually kept Hawaii’s climate wonderfully temperate were in abeyance, and the city was locked in the grip of a heat wave.  He immediately shrugged out of his suit jacket and pulled off his tie and was unbuttoning his collar button when his partner, Danny Williams, came out of the kitchen to greet him.  He was a refreshing sight, dressed in board shorts and a polo shirt and carrying a tall glass of lemonade.

He gave Steve a kiss, handed him the glass, and said, “I’ll take these,” carrying Steve’s jacket and tie off to hang in the bedroom.  When he returned, Steve was ensconced on the sofa with his shoes off and his feet on the coffee table, drinking his lemonade.

“Mm, this is just what I needed,” McGarrett told his partner appreciatively.

“I figured the ‘beverages’ chapter was a pretty harmless place to start,” Danny told him, referring to the shiny new copy of _Joy of Cooking_ Steve had given him for Christmas.  He perched on the arm of the sofa and leaned over to massage his partner’s shoulders.

“Ah, Danno, that’s good....” Steve said, closing his eyes.  “I think I’ll take a shower before dinner,” he said.  “Our reservations are at seven.”

“Want company in the shower?” Danny asked him.

“Always,” McGarrett replied with a smile, setting his empty glass down on the coffee table and reaching a hand up to wrap around his partner’s hip and slide him backwards onto his lap.

Danny, his legs stretched over the arm of the sofa, caught himself with an arm around Steve’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

His partner kissed him back enthusiastically, one hand coming up to slide under Danny’s shirt, his fingertips skimming over the younger man’s taut abdomen until they found one of his nipples, eliciting a noise of pleasure from the sandy-haired detective.

The telephone rang.

McGarrett reluctantly extracted his hand and reached across to the end table for the receiver, then, disengaging his mouth from Danny’s, told it, “McGarrett.”

“Steve, Manicote here,” the district attorney said at the other end of the line.

“What can I do for you on a Saturday, John?” Steve asked, bracing himself.  Danny, who had been attempting to destroy Steve’s concentration by nibbling on his earlobe, sat up and looked anxious upon hearing the name.  He leaned close to hear what was being said on the other end of the line, Steve holding the receiver slightly away from his ear.

“I’m sorry about your weekend, Steve, but I just heard from the correctional facility in Joliet, Illinois.  It seems our old friend Bonano has a parole hearing bright and early Monday morning.”

“And they’re telling us _now?_ ” McGarrett asked.

“They claim there was some sort of bureaucratic slip-up.  No one realized the Hawaii connection,” Manicote said.

“And you believe that?” Steve said skeptically.

“Personally, I think there was some sort of payoff.  Bonano is still connected, as you well know.  I’m afraid that if Five-O isn’t there to apply pressure, he’ll be released.  It was Williams who was involved in the case before, right?  If you could send him....”

“Yeah.  He’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Steve.  I’m sorry about the short notice,” Manicote told him.

“Nothing you could do.  Aloha.”  McGarrett reached to replace the receiver, then turned back to meet Danny’s look of disappointment.  “Well, you know what they say—no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Yeah,” Danny said sadly.  “Since we didn’t oppose his request to be transferred to a prison near his sick mother, I have to fly to Chicago.  So much for our sailing.”

“I’m sorry, Danno,” Steve told him.

“Not your fault, Steve.  But how long has it been since we’ve had a vacation, or even just a lousy day off?  We already had to reschedule to tomorrow because of your meeting this morning with the senator,” Williams protested.

“At least Chin will be glad he’s off the hook,” McGarrett observed.

“That’s true,” his partner said.  “I figure we still owe him lunch, though.  Steve...why don’t you come with me to Chicago?  We could take an extra couple of days, see the sights....”  Danny looked appealingly at his lover.

Steve shook his head regretfully.  “I couldn’t justify it, and I have the budget hearing on Monday.  And I’m afraid,” he said with a sigh, “we should go over the files on the Bonano case and make sure everything’s in order.  You’ll have to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah.  So much for our romantic Italian dinner, too.”  Danny reluctantly removed his arms from around his partner’s neck and climbed off his lap.  “I’ll go change.”

* * *

Later that evening, Williams, perched on the edge of McGarrett’s desk at Five-O headquarters in shirtsleeves with his tie off, yawned and stretched.

Steve, sitting in his chair behind the desk, watched him appreciatively, then sighed.  “It’s late, Danno.  You’d better go back to your place and pack, then get a few hours’ sleep.”

“Yeah, I think I’m ready,” Williams said, gathering his notes on the files from the Bonano case and the information they had on his continuing activities and stuffing them into his briefcase.  “Sure I can’t tempt you to come along, Steve?”

“You know I can’t,” his partner snapped, more harshly than he’d intended.  _A trip with Danny...tempting, indeed, but of course we can’t...always the job, always the look of things...._

“I know.  It’s just I wish....” Danny started, then shook his head and stood up, throwing his empty saimin carton into the trash and picking up his briefcase.  “With the time difference, I should be back in time for dinner on Tuesday.  Goodnight, Steve.”

McGarrett rose from his chair, coming around the desk to join his partner.  “Danny....” he began.  _‘No kiss goodbye at the airport,’_ he thought, remembering what he’d told Danny on the beach during their first date.  _And no kiss goodbye here, either, according to our rules._

Steve stood for a second as Danny watched him, his desires warring with his sense of prudence.  In the end, prudence won, and he merely put his hand on his partner’s shoulder.  “Have a good flight, Danno.  I know you’ll do fine at the hearing.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Danny said, giving him a half smile, then turning to walk out of the office.

McGarrett watched him go.  _I’m sorry about our day off, Danno...I’ll make it up to you when you get back,_ he thought.

* * *

On Tuesday afternoon, McGarrett sat behind his desk listening with half his attention to a report from Chin Ho Kelly on a string of burglaries.  _Danny’s flight should be landing about now.  If he comes straight here, it should be about 45 minutes,_ he thought, looking surreptitiously at his desk clock.  _I wonder what I should cook for dinner tonight...maybe steaks...and then afterwards, for dessert...._ with an inward smile.

“Steve?”  Chin Ho broke in on McGarrett’s thoughts.

“Sorry, Chin,” the head of Five-O told his detective.  “What were you saying about the windows?”

“Danny’s plane must be landing soon.  That’s the fourth time you’ve looked at the clock since I’ve been in here,” Kelly said with a chuckle.

McGarrett glared at Chin.  “The windows?”

“In every case the burglar got in through a bathroom window facing away from the street.  Some of those windows are pretty high up, so he must....”

The telephone rang.

Steve picked it up.  “McGarrett.”

“Steve, this is Dann,” the familiar voice of the HPD chief came over the line.  He sounded grim.  “We have a report from Honolulu International Airport that there’s a hijacking in progress.”

Steve abruptly stood, causing his chair to sway perilously.  “Hijacking?  When?  Which flight?” he snapped into the phone.

“United flight 78, scheduled to arrive from Los Angeles at 2:05,” Dann told him.

“The flight...the flight from Los Angeles,” McGarrett said, trying to keep his voice even as he turned to face the window. __

Behind him, Chin said anxiously, “It’s not....”

He covered the receiver and turned to look at his detective.  “Yeah.  Danny’s flight,” he said flatly.

Into the phone, Steve continued, “What do you know about these hijackers?  Have they made demands?  And where is the plane?”

“They’re on the ground now, parked on one of the runways.  The hijackers want the plane refueled, and they want a guarantee of safe passage to their country.  And they want everything done in three hours, or they start killing hostages.  They haven’t made any political statements.”

“Uh huh.  Who’s talking to them now?” McGarrett asked.

“The head of our airport detail, Kevin Carvalho,” the police chief said.

“Tell him to stall them.  Say he doesn’t have authority to give them what they want,” the head of Five-O instructed.  “And I need your people to get started setting up a command post at the airport.  We need a radio link to the hijackers, phones to the outside, and medical personnel standing by.  Also a copy of the passenger manifest, and I need to meet with the ground crew chief.  Has anyone called Washington yet?”

“No, not yet.”  Dann didn’t seem happy about the prospect.

“OK, I’ll take care of that.  Chief...Dan Williams is on that plane, returning from a parole hearing on the mainland.”

“Danny!  On the plane?” the chief exclaimed.  “I just hope he keeps his head down and that they don’t know he’s a cop,” he said worriedly.

“Yeah,” McGarrett said grimly.  “I’ll be at the airport in thirty minutes.”  He depressed the hook with his finger.

“Chin, I want you to hold the fort here for now,” he told the anxiously waiting detective.  “Deal with the press.  So far all we know is that there’s been a hijacking, no names or demands yet.  Have dispatch radio Kono and send him to the airport.  I have to call Washington.”

“Steve, I’m sure Danny’s okay....” Kelly tried to reassure him.

McGarrett wordlessly shook his head, already picking up the phone.

* * *

Danny Williams sat in the second row aisle seat he had managed to secure when the hijackers had herded all the passengers on the un-crowded flight to the front right-hand side of the plane.  Now he had a good view of the proceedings, which were not reassuring.  There appeared to be four hijackers, two with guns, two without.  The body of the first officer lay across the first row of seats on the left where he’d been dragged by the hijackers after the scuffle in the cockpit during landing had apparently proved fatal.  Williams could hear the hijackers’ leader talking into the radio in the cockpit, and wondered if he was talking to Steve.

One gunman stood in the aisle, watching the passengers, while the other still stood by the forward bulkhead with his gun to the head of the pretty, blonde stewardess  he had taken hostage before landing.

She had been able to stay calm so far, but Danny could see that her control was slipping.

“Please, please, let me _go!_ ” she moaned, shaking, her eyes showing white.

“Shut up and hold still, or I’ll blow your brains out and pick someone else!” the hijacker snapped in a strongly accented voice, grinding the gun against her temple.

“No!  _No!”_ she shrieked with increasing hysteria.

Danny took a deep breath.  He didn’t want to stand out in the crowd, but he couldn’t sit back and watch this happen.  He raised his hand, waving to get the hijacker’s attention.  “Excuse me, sir?” he asked.

“No talking!” snapped the hijacker, clinging to the struggling woman.

“But, sir, you can see we’re all sitting down and doing what you tell us.  Surely you don’t need to keep holding the gun on her,” Williams said reasonably.  “She’s terrified!”

“You don’t tell me what I need to do!” the gunman retorted.

“Your arm must be getting tired,” Danny continued.  “And, if you let her go, she’ll be quiet and you can concentrate on what your boss is up to in the cockpit.”

His random stab in the dark seemed to have touched a nerve.  The hijacker roughly thrust the stewardess into the first row window seat, where she sat crying quietly.  He then moved to stand in the cockpit doorway, looking in.

Williams heaved a sigh of relief.  At least one crisis had been averted.

“I’m so frightened,” the young woman with long brown hair sitting next to him said softly.

“Don’t worry.  If the hijackers are smart they’ll keep us alive and well to get what they want,” Danny reassured her.

“What do you think they want?” she asked anxiously.  “How long will they keep us here?”

Hearing the edge of panic in her voice, Danny tried to distract her.  “Come on, let’s talk about something else,” he suggested.  “What were you coming to Hawaii for?”

“My husband and I got married six months ago, and he got a job at the University here.  I was coming out to join him.  I’m Lauren Miller.”

“Danny Williams,” he said, reaching to formally shake her hand with as much of a grin as he could muster.

Mrs. Miller managed a faint smile in return.  “Do you have someone special waiting for you, too, Mr. Williams?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Danny said with an inward smile, thinking of Steve, and what Mrs. Miller’s reaction would be if she knew.

Just then one of the hijackers came out of the cockpit leading the tall, silver-haired pilot, whom he roughly shoved into the seat in front of Danny before returning to the cockpit.

“What happened up there?” Danny quietly asked him, leaning forward between the seats.

“We were about a thousand miles out of Honolulu when they burst into the cockpit,” the pilot told him.  “They wanted us to fly them to some coordinates out in the ocean, they didn’t say why, or what would happen then.  They don’t know that I speak Spanish, but they weren’t saying anything very useful to each other.”

“So, what did you do?”

“The hijackers didn’t seem to know much about navigation, so the first officer and I were able to hide the fact that we were continuing to Hawaii until we got within sight.  Naturally they noticed that, but I was able to land the plane during the struggle.  They shot First Officer Stryker.  He was a good man...I know his family.”  The pilot shook his head.

“Do you know what their demands are?” Danny asked.

“They want the plane to be refueled and to have safe passage to their country, Curaguay.  They’re threatening to start killing passengers if they don’t get what they want in three hours.  Their leader, he goes by “Diego,” said to one of the others that they were glad they had so many hostages, because they could burn through a few.”

“Nice.  Who’s handling the negotiations on the ground?”

“Steve McGarrett of Five-O,” the pilot said.

Even in these conditions, Danny couldn’t repress a small smile.  “If anyone can get us out of this, he can.  But if the hijackers start killing people, we may need to give him some help.  You look like you could handle yourself if it came to a fight.”  He glanced over at the hijackers, but two of them were conferring farther down the plane, and the one by the cockpit door was leaning inside.

“Captain John Carlton, retired Air Force.  You?”

“I’m a cop.  Danny Williams, Five-O.”

A man with short brown hair and a moustache sitting behind Danny leaned forward to hiss, “Don’t you dare try anything!  You’ll get us all killed!”

Mrs. Miller whispered indignantly, “Do you just want to wait for them to start shooting us one by one and do nothing?”

Danny interjected, “I don’t think we should do anything before the negotiators have a chance, but we should be ready.”

“No talking!” the armed hijacker in the aisle ordered.

* * *

McGarrett glanced at the clock.  4 PM.  “I don’t care what time it is in Curaguay, we need to talk to someone in charge, now!” he snapped into the phone.  “We only have an hour left before the hijackers’ deadline.  _Get me someone!_ ”  He crashed the phone receiver back onto the cradle.

Steve passed a hand over his eyes.  _Don’t think of Danny.  They won’t know he’s a cop.  He’ll be alright,_ he thought for at least the hundredth time since the awful moment he’d seen his partner’s name on the passenger manifest, confirming his worst fears.

He surveyed the room, a staff lounge pressed into service as a command post, now set up with an eclectic variety of desks and tables.  McGarrett had chosen a large, gray metal desk, now equipped with a bank of radio equipment and a telephone, and technicians were at work setting up more phone lines around the room.  In one corner a representative of the Air Force was conferring with the head of the Hawaii Department of Transportation as they dealt with the logistics of the closed airport.  Essential Air Force flights were still being allowed to land at the adjacent Hickam Airforce Base, while civilian planes were being routed to the other islands.  At a table against the far wall Chief Dann was on the telephone giving commands to the HPD forces mobilizing near the captured plane.  Steve’s own forces had arrived in front of his desk while he was talking to Washington.

He snapped his fingers.  “Okay, Chin, Kono, let’s go over it.  Where do we stand?  The hijackers want fuel and safe passage, and they’ll start killing hostages in an hour if they don’t get what they want.  The State Department can’t or won’t put me through to anyone in authority in their country.  We need more time.  Kono,” he said, turning to the big Hawaiian detective.  “You talked to the ground crew chief.  Did he tell you anything we can use?”

“Well, boss, they’re still out on the runway,” Kono said.  “He said they can’t be safely refueled out there because of something about grounding.  I never knew it was so complicated to put gas in a plane!”

“Okay, we can use that,” McGarrett said, standing up and starting to pace behind the desk.  “What would need to be done before the aircraft could be refueled?” McGarrett demanded.

“They said they could maybe rig something up, but it would be easiest to just tow the plane in with a tractor,” Kono reported.

“I’m going to stall them.  Kono, I want you out there on the ground with HPD monitoring the situation,” the head of Five-O told his detective.  He picked up the radio microphone.  “McGarrett to Diego on flight 78.”

“Diego here, Mr. McGarrett.  Your time grows short.  Where is my fuel?”

“You’re still out on the runway.  We aren’t set up for fueling operations out there.  Either you let us move the plane closer to the terminal, or you’ll have to wait for us to rig something,” McGarrett told him.  “In the meantime, you must be getting hungry.  Why don’t you let us send over some food?”

“And let you slip your cops onto the plane?  I don’t think so,” the hijacker’s voice came scornfully over the radio.

“I see from the passenger manifest that you have two children on board.  Why not at least let them go?  It would show your good faith, and I’m sure you’d rather have them off your hands,” Steve tried.

“No!  No one on or off this plane until our demands are met!  One hour, McGarrett, then I start sending out bodies!”

* * *

Danny glanced at his watch.  The hijackers’ deadline had almost expired.  The man who had held the stewardess hostage, who was apparently going by “Garcia,” had disappeared into the cockpit, and the other two men were conversing in the aisle.

Danny leaned forward to speak softly to Captain Carlton.  “If my high school Spanish is right, they’re discussing which one of us to kill first as an example.  I think we’d better make our move now.”

“I agree.  What did you have in mind?” Carlton asked.

“Since only two of them have guns, if we can separate them and take them by surprise, maybe we can overpower them.  We need a diversion,” said the Five-O detective.

“I can help you with that,” said Lauren Miller.

“OK, Mrs. Miller, why don’t you try to get the one in the aisle, I think he’s “Fernandez”, to come down towards the lavatories in the back of the plane?” said Captain Carlton.  “That should give me a shot at him.”

“And I’ll take care of Diego or Garcia, whichever has the gun, when he comes out of the cockpit to see what’s going on,” Danny agreed.

“No!  I tell you, you’ll get us all killed!” exclaimed the mustached man who had objected before.

“Hush!” Mrs. Miller told him sharply.

“They’re going to start killing people in fifteen minutes anyway,” Danny whispered.

“With any luck, they won’t start with me!” the man hissed.

“Just be quiet, and stay out of the way,” Mrs. Miller implored him.

“Good luck, Captain,” Danny said.  “Mrs. Miller, please be careful.”

“Good luck, Mr. Williams,” Carlton responded with a grim smile. “OK, here we go.”

Mrs. Miller stood up and waved to Fernandez.  “Please, sir, may I go back to the lavatory?” she asked.

“Yeah, go on.  Juan, go with her,” Fernandez ordered one of the two unarmed hijackers.

Danny stood to let her pass by him to the aisle, and remained leaning on the first row seat, apparently waiting for her return.

Mrs. Miller, followed by Juan, proceeded down the aisle, and she entered the lavatory, closing the door behind herself.  A few seconds later there was a smash of glass, and a woman’s voice could be heard screaming.

Juan started banging on the door, and Fernandez ran down the aisle with the gun, yelling, “Don’t do anything crazy, lady!”

Captain Carlton followed swiftly and silently behind him, and several other passengers, catching on to what was afoot, stood and started yelling to add to the confusion.

Garcia ran from the cockpit down the aisle, followed by Diego, waving a gun.  “ _What_ is going on out here?” the armed hijacker demanded angrily.  As he passed Danny, Williams sprang on him, knocking him into the seats on the far side of the aisle and banging his gun hand into an armrest until he was forced to release the weapon.

Danny, with his back to the rows of seats containing the now standing passengers, turned to glance down the aisle to where Captain Carlton appeared to be winning his struggle with Fernandez.  Then he suddenly felt a blinding pain in the back of his head, and everything went black.

* * *

The portable radio on Steve’s desk came to life, Kono’s excited voice crackling over the airwaves.  “Steve!  We heard gunfire on the plane!  Should we move in?”

“We can’t go in with those airplane doors closed!  They could kill every hostage before we got inside,” snapped McGarrett.  “Stand by!”

He dropped the portable radio and grabbed the mic of the larger radio tuned to the hijackers’ frequency.  “McGarrett to Diego!  McGarrett to Diego on flight 78!  _What is happening on that plane?”_ he demanded.

Steve had an awful feeling that he knew what was happening.  Danny wouldn’t sit idly by and let the hijackers start killing civilians.  Once again the futile thoughts replayed in his head.  _If only I had gone to Chicago with Danny.  Or gone myself instead of sending him.  Then I wouldn’t be stuck out here impotent to help him.  If anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself...._

* * *

Danny woke to a general feeling of pain.  Eventually the pain resolved itself into a number of discrete sources.  His head hurt.  He was lying on his side on the floor behind the first row of seats on the left with his wrists and ankles tightly bound with what appeared to be wire.  His wrists were additionally fastened to the supports of one of the seats.  It felt like after he’d been knocked unconscious someone had spent a while kicking him in various places.

 _What the hell happened?_ he wondered.  _All the hijackers were in front of me, so who hit me?_

He must not have been out long.  Fernandez had taken his jacket and was apparently going through his wallet.  “Look, boss, here’s his ID.”

“Detective Dan Williams, Hawaii Five-O.  Oh, this is too good,” laughed Diego.  “It _almost_ makes up for your stupidity in shooting the pilot.”

* * *

In the command center, Steve was still trying to raise the aircraft.  “McGarrett to Diego!  McGarrett to Diego!  If you do not answer me in five minutes I will assume the hostages are dead and order a full military strike on the aircraft!”  he yelled into the radio.

It crackled to life.  “Patience, Mr. McGarrett.  Good things come to those who wait,” Diego told him.  “I have someone here I’m sure you’d like to talk to.”

“Hi, Steve,” came a familiar voice.

Relief washed over McGarrett, and he sat down abruptly on the edge of the desk, his legs suddenly feeling weak.  He cleared his throat and forced himself to speak calmly.  “Danno?  Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Danny’s voice said from the radio.  “I’m sorry, Steve, I blew it.”

“What’s going on there?” McGarrett asked.

“The passengers are all unharmed, but they shot the remaining pilot.  I don’t know how bad he is,” his partner told him.

“That’s enough!” broke in Diego’s voice.  “Well, Mr. McGarrett, does that raise the stakes for you a bit?”

“Listen,” Steve said.  “If it’s a cop you want, you can have me.  I’ll trade myself for the other hostages.  No tricks, I give you my word.”

“That’s a very interesting offer....” began Diego.  “Hold on.”

McGarrett and Chin, who had crossed to stand beside Steve’s desk when Kono’s call came in, could hear the sounds of a conversation in Spanish in the background.

Suddenly Steve heard Danny’s voice again, “NO, Steve!  Don’t!  They’ll kill you!  Don’t do....” the voice was abruptly cut off, followed by a number of thuds.

“Danny!  Danno!  Are you alright?  Let me talk to him!  Danny!”  McGarrett shouted into the radio.

“I’m afraid, Mr. McGarrett, that Detective Williams can’t talk right now,” Diego said with a nasty laugh.  “Now, you’d better get to work on my fuel and arrangements.”

Chin put a hand on McGarrett’s arm.  “Easy, Steve.  You can’t help Danny by getting upset.”

“You’re right,” Steve said, taking a deep breath and passing a hand over his eyes.  “Chin, I want you to talk to United and LAX.”  He pulled a sheaf of papers from the pile that had already accumulated on his desk and showed it to Chin.  “There’s only one ‘Diego’ on the passenger manifest.  The name is ‘Diego Volver,’ and there are three other men with the same last name—Garcia, Fernandez, and Juan.  I’d bet anything those are aliases.  Find out anything you can about those men—where they bought their tickets, how they paid for them, anything you can get.  I know the time difference is against us, but we need information now.”

“I’ll start shaking some trees, Steve,” Chin assured him.

“Borrow all the manpower you need from HPD,” the head of Five-O told him.

As Chin went to commandeer a desk and a phone, the door to the office opened.  A plump, balding man in an ill-fitting gray suit walked in.  “Simons, State Department,” he announced self-importantly to the room at large.  “Who’s in charge here?”

Steve rose from his chair and stepped forward.  “Steve McGarrett, Five-O.  Is there any word from the officials in Curaguay?”

“We were able to reach the office of their leader.  As you know, he’s a sort of military strongman, nominally friendly to the U.S.  They deny knowing who the hijackers are or what they want, and they adamantly refuse to allow them to land in their country.  They say they’ll shoot down the plane if it enters their airspace,” Simons told him.

“Is there any neighboring country that would agree to give them permission to land?” McGarrett demanded.

“Not so far.  We’re working on the country to their west, but they’re asking for concessions the State Department finds unacceptable.”

“Remember, they don’t have to actually let them land.  There is no way that plane is leaving this airport,” the head of Five-O said grimly.

* * *

Danny woke up again with a throbbing pain in his temple that made his previous injury feel like nothing.  When he tried to raise his head he heard Mrs. Miller’s voice say, “Shhh, just lie there for a while.  They hit you with a pistol after you grabbed the radio mic, and I can’t tell how badly you’re hurt without an X-ray.  I’m a nurse,” she explained.  “They said I could do what I could for you, which isn’t much, since they won’t let me use any supplies on you.”

“Who knocked me out before?  And how is Captain Carlton?” Williams asked.

“That cowardly man who was sitting behind you earlier hit you in the head with his briefcase,” she said bitterly.  “He claims he was afraid the hijackers would shoot everyone in retaliation for your attempt, but if he hadn’t done that, you would have succeeded!  And Captain Carlton is unconscious.  The bullet creased the side of his head.  I bandaged it, but I’m worried that he may have a skull fracture,” she said, then frowned down at Danny’s hands.  “I wish they’d let me loosen this wire.  I don’t like how it’s cutting into your wrists.”

“I can’t say I think much of it myself,” the sandy-haired detective said with an attempt at a smile.  “Thanks for helping me.  I know you’re putting yourself at risk.”

“They need me to try to get Carlton conscious,” she told him.  “I don’t think there’s much too chance of that, though.  Drink some of this water, you’ve lost a lot of blood,” she said, holding a cup with a cocktail straw in it to his lips.

* * *

The hours crawled by, spent by Danny in trying to find a way to lie to ease his throbbing head.  The temperature in the plane had climbed to unbearable levels, and the air was stuffy.  Twice the hijackers had opened the door for ventilation, each time with a gun pointed at Danny for the duration.  Mrs. Miller sat in the aisle beside him warily watching the hijackers, who seemed to be getting increasingly nervous.

“They’re all standing around the cockpit door now,” she told him in a soft voice, as there came an outbreak of raised voices from the front of the plane. Danny listened in as best he could.  As far as he could tell, the one called Garcia was arguing that it wasn’t right for Diego to be the only one who knew what was going on.  Apparently there was some rift there.

To Danny’s disappointment, the argument ended without further discord.  Diego gave an elaborate shrug, then gestured towards the blonde stewardess in the front row.

Garcia approached the terrified woman again.  “Get into the cockpit and fix it so that we can all hear the radio!” he ordered.

“But...but I’m not sure I know how....” she protested, as Garcia yanked her to her feet and shoved her at the door.

“You’d better hope you figure it out,” he snapped.  “And no funny business!  Diego, give me the gun,” he said to the hijackers’ leader.

“I’ll supervise her,” Diego said, keeping the gun.  “You look after things out here.”

A few minutes later there was a crackle of static over the PA system.  Then Diego shoved the blonde woman out the cockpit door, telling her to return to her seat.

They could all hear Diego’s voice over the radio, saying, “Mr. McGarrett, I hope you can report progress on our demands.”

“It appears your countrymen don’t want you,” McGarrett replied.  “They say that if you enter their airspace, they will shoot down your aircraft, hostages or not.”

“Then make arrangements for us to land in a neighboring country.  We will drive across the border.”

“We’re working on that, but it takes time to cut through the red tape.  In the meantime, what about food and water?  And medical care for the pilot?” Steve suggested.

“No, Mr. McGarrett.  No one in or out.  And this is taking far too long.  I think you are not feeling sufficiently motivated,” the hijacker mused.  “I have an idea.  Perhaps I should give you back Mr. Williams, or, shall I say, some _part_ of Mr. Williams?  Maybe a finger...or possibly an ear?”

Danny fought down a wave of panic, and Mrs. Miller let out a gasp.

Steve’s voice over the radio was cold with fury.  _“If you do that, I will personally guarantee that you never get off this rock alive.”_

“Maybe, Mr. McGarrett, but then neither will any of these people, including your young man here.  Diego out.”

* * *

McGarrett stretched, rubbing the back of his neck.  In the heat wave that still prevailed, the air conditioning had been unable to keep this interior office at a comfortable temperature, and Steve had long since removed his jacket and tie.  He felt as though he had spent the last twelve hours doing nothing but talking into the phone and dreading the beep of the radio link to the hijackers.  The worst call had been the one he’d had to make to Danny’s aunt, to tell her that the young man she loved as a son was in mortal peril.  She’d assured him, “Mr. McGarrett, Danny’s told me so much about you—I know you’ll get him back safely.”  _I hope her confidence isn’t misplaced,_ Steve thought.  _All those people’s lives are my responsibility.  My fault if anything happens to Danny...._

He looked up as Chin approached his desk carrying a sandwich.  “Here, boss.  You haven’t had anything but coffee since lunch, and it’s after midnight.”

“The hostages haven’t had anything to eat, either,” McGarrett said grimly.

Chin’s voice softened.  “I know you’re worried about Danny, but you’re no good to anyone if you don’t eat.”

“Thanks, Chin,” Steve said with an attempt at a smile, taking the sandwich and setting it next to the phone, which promptly rang.

He picked up the receiver.  “McGarrett,” he snapped.

“Simons here,” came the state department man’s gray voice.  “I’m afraid it’s bad news so far.  The country to the west has refused to talk to the hijackers under any circumstances,” he told the head of Five-O.

“If the country to the west won’t do it, what about the country to the south?” McGarrett asked.

“Well....” Simons temporized.  “It’s not ruled out, but my superiors feel that our position with them is delicate, and we don’t want to be obligated....”

“You haven’t even _asked_ them, have you?” McGarrett demanded, his voice rising.  “I don’t care if Washington doesn’t want to ask them for a favor!  The lives of the people on that plane depend on our keeping the hijackers happy until we can negotiate some compromise, or at least get the door opened!”  He got to his feet, frustrated that the phone cord wasn’t long enough for him to indulge in his usual pacing.  “Doesn’t anyone _care_ about that?”

“Of course we care, Mr. McGarrett!” Simons said indignantly.  “But unlike you on your little island, we have to look at the bigger picture!”

Steve took a deep breath and concentrated on clinging to the remains of his temper.

“Look,” he said reasonably, “We just need them to _tell_ the hijackers they can land so we can stall for time and try to get some of the hostages released and the door opened before we go in.  How hard can that possibly be to get someone to agree to?”

“Of course...of course we’ll try,” the State Department official said.  “But in diplomacy, sometimes these things just don’t happen the way we want.”

“Well, _make_ it happen!”  McGarrett shouted, finally losing it.  “And if you aren’t competent enough to manage it, then please ask your superiors to get me someone who is!”  He slammed the receiver back onto the phone with excessive force, then winced and stood rubbing his hand.  _Calm down, Steve,_ he told himself.  _This isn’t helping anything.  But when I think of the bureaucrats in Washington and how little these lives mean to them...how little Danny’s life means...._

He took a deep breath and sat down at the desk again, trying to force himself to concentrate on mapping out their next steps.  His thoughts, however, refused to cooperate.  _He has to be alright.  I’d give anything to see him again, to talk to him, to...on Saturday, why did I insist on going straight back to the office?  An hour wouldn’t have made that much difference, but I figured work should come first, there’d be time enough for that later._

McGarrett sighed, reaching for the telephone receiver.  _I didn’t even kiss him goodbye...._


	2. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, my apologies to United, with whom I just had a peaceful and secure flight. My thanks to everyone who gave me feedback on "Day One," and also to Jen and Janet for reading through this chapter for me at various times.

Steve McGarrett leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, thinking that not having slept since the hijacking was adding to the feeling of being caught in a waking nightmare. Despite the early hour, the temporary command post was busy with people from various agencies, a low buzz of conversation filling the room. McGarrett picked up the half-full paper cup of cold coffee from his desk and took a swallow, grimacing at the taste. Setting it down, he left the office and walked down the hall and into the public section of the terminal, crossing to the wall of glass overlooking the runway where the distant plane sat, bathed in light from an encircling ring of portable floodlights. He looked around at the tasteful carpet and dark wood paneling of the empty gate area, strangely bereft without its usual throngs of happy tourists, then turned his gaze out the window. Dawn was breaking, washing the scene in deceptive beauty. _Danny’s out there, injured, in pain, counting on me like the other fifty-nine passengers,_ he thought.

Chin Ho came to join McGarrett at the window. “Steve, I’ve finally got some information from L.A.,” he said. “The names were aliases, like you thought, and the tickets were paid for in cash. The good news is, that was unusual enough that the woman behind the ticket counter remembered this ‘Diego Volver’ guy who bought them. She said he seemed real nervous, too. They’ve made a sketch from her description and LAPD are circulating it in the Curaguayan community there.”

“Good, Chin. Have them wire a copy of that sketch to me and to Washington, ASAP. I want to know who these men are!” Steve declared.

McGarrett started to pace in front of the windows, snapping his fingers. “I haven’t been thinking straight. Something doesn’t add up here. What kind of hijackers have no stated political agenda, no revolutionary demands prepared? They haven’t even asked to talk to the press.”

“What are you thinking?” Chin asked.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t feel right. What if the hijackers never meant for this plane to land in Honolulu, and now they’re left without a plan? What did Danny say, they shot the _remaining_ pilot?”

McGarrett suddenly stopped pacing. “Chin! Get me the tape from the control tower of the communications with the aircraft from the minute it reached Hawaii airspace, and call LAX and tell them I want to hear the tape from their end, too.”

“You got it, Steve,” Kelly said, hurrying off.

The head of Five-O returned to the command post and his temporary desk. Currently Carstairs from the FBI was sitting on it, eating McGarrett’s forgotten sandwich and conferring with Simons from State, with Kono listening to their conversation. As Steve crossed the room to join them, an official from the Hawaii Department of Transportation came bustling in accompanied by Duke Lukela of HPD.

“Steve, the security cordon around this end of the terminal is complete,” Duke reported. “Mr. Craig here wants to know when can we reopen the airport to civilian traffic.”

“We need to get that plane off the runway and closer to the terminal first,” McGarrett told them. “If nothing else, they’re going to run out of battery power for the radio soon. Duke, talk to the ground crew about arranging to tow the aircraft if I get the go-ahead from the hijackers.”

Steve looked to his left, “Danno, I want you to...” he started, then stopped and closed his eyes in pain for a second.

“Steve....” Kono began.

“I meant Kono,” snapped McGarrett. “When this airport reopens United is going to start flying the families of the passengers in. I want you to coordinate with the Hawaii Visitors Bureau and the airline to get them information and accommodations. Set up another room here at the airport where they can wait.”

“I’m on it, Boss.” Kono hurried from the room.

The telephone on Steve’s desk rang, as it had been doing more or less continuously for the past twelve hours. He picked up the receiver. “McGarrett.”

“Good morning, Steve,” came the Governor’s voice.

McGarrett automatically answered, “Good morning, Governor.” _Not that I’ve had too many worse mornings in my life,_ he thought.

Jameson continued, “The newspaper and television people are demanding news about the hijacking. I think it’s time we call a press conference and give out what information we have.”

“Yes, I suppose we’ll have to,” Steve said resignedly. “How about we schedule it for eight? I hate to create more chaos here, but I don’t want to leave the airport until this is over. I suggest we hold it in the baggage claim area, since we won’t be needing that for anything else until we re- open to civilian traffic. To forestall your next question, Governor, I recommend we do that as soon as we can get the hijacked aircraft off the runway.”

“Good, Steve. You know how important it is to our economy to keep the tourist trade flowing. This hijacking is bad enough publicity without leaving thousands of tourists stranded for days.”

“Yes, Governor, I know,” McGarrett told him.

Perhaps motivated by the note of weariness in Steve’s voice, the Governor asked, “Steve...is...have you heard anything more about Dan?”

“As far as I know, he’s still alive,” McGarrett said flatly.

“I have every confidence that you’ll get him and the other hostages back safely, Steve,” the Governor assured him.

“Thank you, Governor. Aloha.” Steve put down the receiver. _Everyone has every confidence. My responsibility if anything happens to the hostages. To Danny. I can’t think of him now. He’s going to be fine. He has to be fine,_ he thought desperately.

McGarrett picked up the phone again and dialed Five-O headquarters. “Jenny, good, you’re in early,” he told her. “I need to set up a press conference in an hour, Honolulu International Airport baggage claim.”

“I’ll arrange things with the airport staff and let the press know, Boss,” she assured him.

“Thanks, love,” the head of Five-O answered.

“Have...have you heard anything more about Danny?” she asked anxiously.

“No. But as far as I know he’s still okay,” he reassured her. _He has to be okay...._

Steve looked at his watch, then took a deep breath and picked up the radio microphone, pressing the button. “McGarrett to Diego. McGarrett calling Diego on flight 78.”

The radio crackled to life with the hijacker’s voice. “Mr. McGarrett. I hope you are calling to report progress on our demands?”

“We’re working on them. In order to get you your fuel, we’d like your permission to tow the aircraft closer to the terminal. That will also allow us to give you an electrical hook-up to power the radio and lights without draining the batteries,” McGarrett said.

“This is a trick of some sort! You want to tow us to where you can move on the plane without us seeing!” Diego sneered.

“No trick. We’ll leave you as far from the terminal building as we can reach with the cables, but it’s the only way we can give you the fuel you want,” McGarrett declared.

“Very well. But remember that I will have a gun on your detective the entire time you are moving the plane, and if I even suspect anything, I will blow his head off. Diego out.”

* * *

Chin returned to the temporary command post, waving two envelopes. “Here’s the sketch and the tape, Steve.”

“Good, good,” McGarrett said, taking the envelopes. He put the tape reel onto the machine on his desk and hit play. As they listened to the communications between the tower and the incoming flight Steve noted, “We’re only hearing from the Captain, not the first officer. And listen to his voice—he sounds strained, anxious. What was that?” He stopped the tape.

“It sounded like the captain just said, ‘Confirm we are on course to Honolulu Airport, no deviation in progress’,” Chin, leaning close to the machine to listen, said.

“The tower made no mention of a deviation, and their response sounds confused.” McGarrett snapped his fingers. “Now, we’re getting somewhere! Chin, I want to talk to the controller who was on duty when that plane landed. If he’s not here, have HPD pick him up immediately. And get me the LAX controller right...as soon as I’m finished with this press conference.” Steve glanced at his watch in frustration. He picked up the envelope with the sketch of “Diego” and strode out to meet the press.

* * *

 _Danny was in bed. Steve, his head propped on one arm, was smiling down at him with those long-lashed deep blue eyes. His dark haired lover leaned down and kissed him, sliding his left hand up Danny’s chest and then down his stomach until it closed over his cock. “Steve....” he moaned,_ and then woke to a renewed knowledge of his present painful circumstances. Mrs. Miller was bending over him feeling his forehead.

“Good morning,” she said, and he realized that sunlight was once again streaming through the windows of the plane, the air temperature already uncomfortably hot. “You don’t seem to have a fever, but you were mumbling in your sleep,” she said. “Something about ‘Steve’?”

“McGarrett.” Danny thought quickly. “I...I really wish I could tell him what’s happening in here, help him with the negotiations, and....”

He was interrupted by Garcia coming to sit in the aisle seat across from the one he was tied to. The hijacker was carrying one of the guns, and he trained it on Danny, ordering Mrs. Miller away from him.

 _Is this it? Steve...I wish I could see you again, or even just hear your voice once more. I’ve never even really told you how I feel about you...._ Danny thought desperately.

There was a jolt, and the view of the runway outside the aircraft began to slowly move past the windows, until the dark shape of the terminal loomed on the left side of the plane.

The plane came to a halt. Garcia remained where he was, gun pointed, until Fernandez came from the cockpit and said something to him in Spanish in which Danny recognized “enough” and “no problem.” Both hijackers returned to the cockpit, and Mrs. Miller rejoined Danny.

“I was afraid that.....” she began, her face pale.

“Me, too,” he admitted. “Do you know why they moved us?”

“Something about needing us to be near the terminal for refueling, and also so we can be connected to electrical power,” she said.

“I hope that means they can run the air conditioning,” Danny said. “I’m worried about some of the passengers if it stays this hot.”

“I wonder how much longer this can go on,” she said anxiously.

“Steve will get us out of this,” he assured her. _If anyone can,_ he added mentally. “Is Captain Carlton still...with us?” he asked.

She glanced down the plane to where the pilot lay under blankets in the aft galley. “Yes, but still unconscious. He needs to be in a hospital, soon, if he’s to have any chance.”

Their conversation was interrupted by raised voices from the hijackers, who were congregated around the cockpit door.

“...if you hadn’t blown the plan to begin with by letting that bastard pilot land in Honolulu! You were supposed to be watching him!” came one angry voice, speaking English, Danny was interested to note.

“How was I supposed to know where we were in two thousand miles of ocean? I’m not a navigator! And it was you who shot the captain. Now what do we do for a pilot?” another hijacker protested indignantly. Unlike the other three, this man’s English was unaccented, and Williams wondered if he might be American by birth.

“That nurse had better get him awake,” the first man said.

“If she doesn’t, we can start cutting bits off her pet cop,” answered a third with a nasty laugh.

What Danny recognized as Diego’s voice cut across the others. “Silence! All of you! We’re just going to have to change our plan.”

* * *

The radio on Steve’s borrowed desk beeped. He picked up the mic and announced, “McGarrett.”

“Mr. McGarrett,” came Diego’s voice. “Do you have my fuel ready?”

“Not yet. We’re working on it,” the head of Five-O answered.

“If I do not see the truck in _one hour,_ I’m going to send you out a little souvenir, as I promised,” Diego said. “In the meantime, I want you to send in food and water, and I have a list of medical supplies we need. Canned food in sealed containers. No lifts, trucks, or racks, I want it carried up the stairs by four women. No more than four, and no men. They can make two trips if they have to. I will have a gun trained on them at all times, and my associate will have one on your Mr. Williams. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Steve told him. “We’ll make the preparations immediately. What about medical care for the pilot? Surely you don’t want him to die.”

“No. Anyone you sent in would be a cop or a solider. We have a nurse; she will have to do. Diego out.”

McGarrett set down the radio handset and turned to Chin Ho, who had hurried over upon hearing the radio. “Chin, get on the phone to HPD. I want four policewomen here as soon as possible. Get them uniformed as caterers, then bring them to me.”

“Right, Steve,” Chin said, hurrying off.

Steve crossed the office to where Colonel Masters of the Army was talking to an HPD sharpshooter. “Colonel, we need sealed rations for sixty-five people for a couple of days. Can the Army provide that?”

“Yes, I’ll have them sent from base at once,” Masters told him.

“Mr. Craig!” McGarrett called across the room to the HDOT official, who had taken over one of the desks in the room. “I’d like you to arrange a set of air stairs ready to drive out to that plane. I want them rigged with bunting or panels that would conceal at least three men underneath the stairs.” “Wait, wait, Mr. McGarrett,” interjected Carstairs, the FBI man, coming to join Steve. “I don’t think it’s time for that sort of direct action yet.”

“Neither do I, but I want the option for later, and if we change the stairs then it will be obvious,” explained the head of Five-O.

He looked at the clock. _2 PM, twenty-four hours since the plane landed. It feels more like a week,_ he thought. At least he had finally had something to eat, thanks to Chin shoving a sandwich into his hand as he ran out to door on his way to the press conference, saying, “Don’t waste this one on the FBI, Steve!”

Reviewing the tape from LAX over the phone had convinced him that all was well until the plane had passed out of Los Angeles airspace. The first officer had handled communications on takeoff, and everything sounded normal. The hijackers must have waited until the plane was in the no- man’s-land over the Pacific Ocean. _Where could they have been headed?_ he wondered. _Let’s see if we can make a guess...._

McGarrett picked up the phone on his desk. “Operator, get me Pearl Harbor Naval Base.”

When he was connected to the base switchboard, he said, “This is Steve McGarrett of Five-O. Let me speak to Lt. Commander Paul Jones, please.”

After a pause and some clicks, he heard a familiar voice.

“Steve! It’s been too long. But I know you didn’t call to chat.”

“Jonesey, I need your help with this hijacking,” McGarrett said.

“Of course, anything at all I can do....” Jones told him.

“Can you come to the airport right away? Bring a chart with every islet and atoll in the Pacific where you could possibly land a DC-8,” Steve requested.

“Will do,” came his friend’s crisp voice. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks. It’s just a hunch I have, but at this point I’ll try anything,” McGarrett said grimly.

“See you shortly, Steve.”

“Yeah. Bye, Jonesey,” the head of Five-O said, replacing the receiver.

“What are you thinking, Steve?” asked Kono, who had come over to the desk to report while McGarrett was making his phone call.

“I think the hijackers never meant to come here. I think they planned to divert the plane elsewhere, maybe meet up with a boat. But who are they, and who’s backing their play?” he asked, striding across the office to the desk being used by Simons, the state department man, its surface currently covered by his lunch.

“Mr. Simons! Any word from Washington on that sketch?” McGarrett demanded.

“We’re having trouble getting the picture wired to their country,” Simons said with his mouth full. “We don’t have formal diplomatic relations with them, after all.” “I don’t care if you have to carry it over the border on a mule, I want to know _who these men are!_ ” McGarrett snapped, emphasizing his words with his fist on the desk, the impact upsetting the diplomat’s paper cup of coffee.

Mopping spilled coffee and trying to rescue his sandwich, Simons glared at the head of Five-O, but Steve had already turned away and was walking briskly back to his own desk.

* * *

“There’s something moving outside,” Mrs. Miller said, returning from tending to the still unconscious Captain Carlton in the rear of the plane and taking a seat on the floor beside Danny.

“They must be bringing over the stairs to deliver the supplies the hijackers ordered,” Williams told her.

She stood and went to look out the window of the row behind the one Danny was sitting in. “I see a truck, too. It looks like a tanker. It’s going around behind the plane. Mr. McGarrett won’t really let them take off with all of us still on board, will he?” she asked in a frightened voice, returning to her previous position in the aisle.

“Not a chance,” Danny reassured her. “He’s just stalling for time.”

They stopped talking as Garcia left the cockpit and approached them. He carried an open folding knife with a nastily efficient-looking blade.

“Move!” he curtly ordered Mrs. Miller.

“No! Leave him alone!” she cried, standing protectively in front of Danny.

“Fernandez! Get her out of the way!” the hijacker ordered curtly over his shoulder, and the other man came forward to roughly pull her aside.

Garcia knelt beside Williams. As he saw the hijacker reach towards his head with the knife, Danny fought down a wave of sheer panic.

“No! No, don’t!” he shouted, trying desperately to move away from the blade.

Garcia grabbed him by the hair and growled, “Hold still, cop, or you’ll really get hurt.” He made a swift slash with the knife, and Danny felt a flood of relief when he realized that the hijacker had only taken a chunk of his hair.

Garcia stood up and reached into the pocket of Danny’s jacket, thrown over a nearby seat. He extracted a handkerchief and wrapped the hair in it, then opened a box of playing cards he had taken from the plane’s supplies. He took out most of the cards, then stuffed the handkerchief in and closed the box, throwing it up and down to test the weight. “That should be about right. A nice souvenir for Mr. McGarrett,” he said with a nasty laugh, tossing it to Diego, standing in the cockpit door.

Danny watched in growing horror. _They were going to send that out to Steve, and, after their threat, Steve would think...._ Imagining what this would do to his lover filled him with a sick fury. “You _bastards,_ is this a game to you?” he shouted.

“Be quiet, Mr. Williams, or I will see to it that you are permanently quiet,” Diego ordered. “Now, how to make this even more convincing?” the hijackers’ leader mused.

* * *

McGarrett stood behind his desk in the command center as the policewomen who had delivered the food to the plane came in to report, escorted by Chin Ho Kelly.

“From what we could see, the passengers were unharmed. They were on the right side of the plane, away from us. There was what looked like a body under a blanket lying across the left front seats. We couldn’t see the injured pilot, but we didn’t get a look down into the back of the plane,” Officer Lihue, the pretty, local policewoman who had led the crew told Steve and Chin.

“What about Danny Williams?” Steve demanded.

“Mr. Williams was sitting on the floor tied to the back of the first row of seats on the left. He looked pretty bad,” she said. “He had a bandage around his head and there was blood all down the side of his face and on his shirt.”

“Did he say anything?” McGarrett asked.

“No, one of the hijackers had a gun pointed at him the whole time,” she told him.

“Okay, you can go,” McGarrett told them. “Give Duke Lukela your complete statements.”

“Wait, there’s one more thing,” said Lihue. She took a small box from her pocket and held it out. “The hijacker gave me this. He said it was a present for you, Mr. McGarrett.”

Chin, standing beside her, took the little box. As she left, he handed it to Steve, who had come around the desk. They exchanged horrified looks. “Do you think it’s....” Chin asked anxiously, unable to complete his sentence. “But we sent the fuel truck!” he protested.

McGarrett shook his head helplessly.

“Let me open it, Steve,” Chin offered, seeing that McGarrett’s hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold the box.

“No. This is my responsibility,” Steve answered grimly, forcing himself into at least a semblance of calm. He sat down in his chair, carefully setting the box on the desktop to steady it. He took a deep breath and pried the end flap open. Chin watched from across the desk, hardly daring to breathe.

McGarrett slid the white handkerchief out onto the desk blotter. Taking a pen, he slowly unfolded the cloth, revealing the object that lay within.

Chin looked puzzled. “What is it, Steve?” he asked, looking up at his boss.

“A piece of Danny’s hair.” McGarrett sat down abruptly. “Thank God. They didn’t...oh, thank God.” He buried his face in his hands.

The radio beeped.

Steve raised his head to give it a look of loathing. He picked up the mic, forcing his voice to remain almost steady. “McGarrett,” he answered through clenched teeth.

“Ah, Mr. McGarrett,” Diego said in a satisfied voice. “Did you like my little gift?”

“Very funny,” McGarrett snapped.

“Now, now, I thought if things don’t work out, you might like a memento of your Detective Williams,” the hijacker said with a laugh.

“How thoughtful of you,” Steve ground out.

“Well, you did finally send my fuel. Just remember, if you don’t finish the rest of my arrangements, I can always send out the real thing. So get back on the phone to Washington, Mr. McGarrett, and this time you had better get results. Diego out.”

McGarrett set down the microphone and stood up. “Chin! I want to meet with Lieutenant Commander Jones and his map, Colonel Masters, and Mr. Simons as soon as possible. Then I want you to find me a United pilot’s uniform and arrange some time for me with a DC-8 pilot instructor,” he snapped, his voice coldly furious.

Chin Ho hurried across the room to round up the men in question.

Steve sat down again and reached out to gently touch the little swath of Danny’s hair. He bent to catch the faint scent of cologne on the handkerchief. _Danny’s handkerchief, too. Will I ever see him alive again, or is this all I’ll have left?_ he wondered as he tenderly re-folded the handkerchief and tucked it into his inside jacket pocket.

He looked up to see the three men he wanted to talk to approaching his desk and stood to greet them, with an effort forcing himself back to business. “I don’t think this plane was supposed to land in Honolulu,” he began. “I think it’s possible it was going to land somewhere in the Pacific and be met by a boat, and I want to find out where. Now, Jonesey, let’s see that chart.”

They unrolled the chart on the desk and clustered around it. “I’ve circled every speck of rock that has an airstrip, however disused,” said Jones. “These with red ‘x’s’ have a permanent U.S. military presence.”

“There’s no way to know which of these they’d choose!” said Masters. “And what would be the point?”

“A way to move weapons into Curaguay using the hijacked airliner as cover and the passengers as human shields, maybe,” McGarrett said grimly. “Is there any way we could get a flyover of some of these islands?” he asked Jones.

“We have maritime patrol planes at Barber’s Point that could be ready in a few hours, but you’d need to convince the admiral,” his friend told him. “And he’d probably want the go-ahead from Washington first.”

“Jonesey, if you had to guess, if you were in their place, which island would you choose?” McGarrett demanded.

“Well, this one and this one don’t have good harbors,” he said, pointing. “And this one is too near Guam. I would say these three are the most likely. This one here has quite a long airstrip left over from the war, but the island is abandoned now,” he said, putting his finger on the speck of land.

“OK, let’s try that one first, then the other two. Mr. Simons, have your boss in Washington ask the Navy to send out some patrols,” McGarrett ordered.

“It’s not that easy, McGarrett!” Simons protested.

“I don’t want to hear that from you! These people’s lives may depend on it, and we can’t burn a lousy few thousand pounds of fuel to take a look?” Steve demanded.

“This all just seems very far-fetched...I don’t want to go out on a limb....” the state department employee temporized.

“You don’t want to go out on a limb? Mr. Simons, which is more important, looking good to your superiors, or saving these people’s lives?” McGarrett shouted.

“I don’t think that’s called for!” Simons protested.

McGarrett took a deep breath and tried to regain his calm. “Jonesey, do you think you could get me through to talk to Admiral Bonden?”

“Let me give it a try,” his old friend said, picking up the phone.

After a considerable period of wrangling, Jones handed the phone to McGarrett. “OK, Steve, I had to call in a favor with his secretary, but here he is.”

“Admiral, this is Steve McGarrett, Five-O.”

“I’m a busy man, Mr. McGarrett. You have five minutes to state your case,” the rear admiral in charge of Hawaii’s naval forces said gruffly.

“Admiral, as you undoubtedly know, we have a hijacking situation here. I think the hijackers planned to land on an atoll in the Pacific and meet a boat for refueling and perhaps to pick up arms and men. I’d like to check out the possibles with a flyover,” Steve told him.

“What evidence do you have?” asked the admiral.

“No direct evidence, but the scenario fits the facts,” McGarrett said. “I want to know who these hijackers are. So far we have no real ID on them, and they haven’t said a word about their political agenda. I think someone’s backing them. Maybe the Russians, maybe the Chinese...I want to know who.”

“Even _if_ you find your mythical boat, what makes you think it will matter?” the admiral said skeptically.

“If there’s _any_ chance it will help, isn’t it worth the time and fuel?” McGarrett asked persuasively. “Please, Admiral, I’m begging you as a personal favor to me to send those planes. I know you don’t know me as well as your predecessor did, but....”

“That’s right, you’re _that_ Steve McGarrett. In Naval Intelligence a few years back?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve acknowledged.

“I reckon that if you believe this will help, the Navy will take your word for it,” the admiral said. “I’ll give the order. Stay on the line and I’ll have my aide put you through to Barber’s Point.”

“Thank you, Admiral. You’ve been a great help.”

McGarrett handed the phone back to Jones. “He’s transferring us to the Naval Air Station. Give them the coordinates of those atolls.”

He turned to the representative of the State Department. “Now, Mr. Simons, I need ammunition to stall with until we hear from those planes, which will be mid-day tomorrow at the earliest,” he said briskly. “I want you to get someone, _anyone, _in authority from the country to the south of Curaguay to talk to the hijackers. I want an expert on the political status in the area. And _get those pictures through to Curaguay._ ”__

* * *

Danny lay on his side, trying vainly to find a more comfortable position. It didn’t help that it had now been almost a day and a half since he’d had anything to eat. He looked at his swollen hands. “I can’t feel my hands properly anymore,” he said worriedly to Mrs. Miller, sitting in the aisle at his side.

She leaned over to examine them. “Danny, I know it hurts, but keep wiggling your fingers. You need to maintain circulation.”

He did his best to move his fingers, wincing in pain.

Diego and Garcia were arguing in front of the cockpit doorway, while Fernandez and the fourth hijacker, whose name Danny hadn’t caught, watched the passengers. “When we have the fuel, we’ll just go on to our target as planned and rendezvous with the boat to get the men and weapons!” Garcia declared.

“And will they still be waiting? What if McGarrett has found out about the boat?” Diego demanded.

“He’s the head of the state police. What will he do, send the Navy?” Garcia scoffed.

“All he has to do is call up our friends’ government and let them know that he knows. You know this has to be kept secret, or they won’t be involved! I say we announce our plans and fly directly to our country. Our people will welcome us with open arms!” the leader said, gesturing.

“Don’t be an idiot. We’d be shot down before we were five minutes over the border,” Garcia said, arms folded. “And without the weapons, what good could we do them?”

“We must talk to the press and let our people know! They will rise up and refuse to shoot us down!” Diego said excitedly. “Even without weapons, our act will be a rallying point.”

“Can you two please stop arguing for five minutes?” complained Fernandez from his position part way down the aisle.

“Everything’s gone wrong with this plan from the start....” muttered the fourth hijacker.

“We’ll wait until morning and see if the diplomats come through for us before we make a decision,” announced Diego.

Outside the sun was sinking, sending sunset colors through the plane. _Is this the last sunset I’ll ever see?_ Danny wondered. _It’s silly, but I wish I could share it with Steve. Maybe he’s looking at the same scene...._

* * *

McGarrett stood at the sweep of terminal windows looking out at the sunset. He turned as Chin Ho Kelley materialized at his elbow. “Chin, you go home and get some sleep,” he said. “Tell Kono he can go, too—there’s not much we can do until Washington comes through for us. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

“Steve, you need rest, too. You’re only human. You can’t just keep driving yourself forever,” the older man told him.

“I can drive myself for as long as it takes to get those people safely off that plane,” McGarrett said grimly, turning back to the window.

“You’re no good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet,” Chin protested.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a cot around here somewhere,” Steve reassured him with an attempt at a smile.

McGarrett returned to the command center. He checked with Simons and the HPD observers, who both reported no news. Absently eating a sandwich from a tray someone had brought, he read through the report on the political situation in Curaguay in more detail, then once again studied the information on the possible landing sites to be flown over the next day, the information on the hijackers from Los Angeles, and the reports of the policewomen who’d been on the plane. _I wish I could think of something more to do,_ he thought, rubbing his eyes, feeling impossibly weary. Glancing at his watch, he decided that Chin had a point, tracking down a cot in a crew rest room and arranging to be woken before dawn, or if there were any further word from the hijackers.

He lay on the cot in his shirtsleeves, unable to sleep. _Probably all that coffee,_ he thought. Then _Danny was waking him up. A Danny completely whole and uninjured, and smiling as Steve sat up on the cot in wonder. “Danny? How can you be here?”_

“It’s OK, Steve. It was all just a terrible mistake. I wasn’t on that plane at all,” he said.

Steve then realized that neither of them was wearing any clothing. Danny leaned over and put his hands on Steve’s shoulders, and they shared a passionate kiss, Steve clinging to him desperately. Danny disengaged his mouth to kiss his way down Steve’s chest, sliding the rough blanket off McGarrett’s lap and kneeling before him to take his erect cock into his mouth.

“Danny....” Steve gasped, then groaned with pleasure as Danny’s tongue worked its magic. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he managed to gasp.

Danny raised his head to look up at him with bright blue eyes and smiled. “Steve....”

“Steve, wake up.” Duke was gently shaking Steve’s shoulder. “It’s 4 AM.”

Steve sat up groggily. _Where did Danny go? He was just..._ then the present punched him in the gut. He had to turn his head away for a second to blink back tears. _That was a low blow,_ he thought. _I can be as tough as I like all day, but I can’t armor myself against dreams._

“Thanks, Duke,” he managed to say in an almost steady voice. “I’ll be back in the command post in a few minutes.”

Steve stopped in the lavatory to splash cold water on his face and shave with a razor he’d bought in an airport gift shop. He wished he had a change of clothes, but, like hunger and the rest of his minor physical discomforts, it was irrelevant.

McGarrett re-donned his jacket and tie, and strode down the hall back to the command post in search of coffee.


	3. Day Three

Chin and Kono reappeared in the temporary command post at the airport as dawn was breaking, Kono carrying a large box of malasadas which he set down on the metal desk behind which the head of Five-O was already sitting.

“From Leonard’s—best on da island!” the Hawaiian detective said, offering one of the pastries to McGarrett, in the process liberally sprinkling the desk with sugar.

Steve took it, managing a small smile.  He appreciated the closeness of the Five-O team, who, besides his sister on the mainland, were his only family.  _If anything happens to Danny, it will be a grievous loss to all of them,_ he thought, taking a bite, then abstractedly setting the remains down on top of a stack of computer printouts as Kono hurried over to his own commandeered desk to get up to speed on the morning’s developments.

The number of people in the office command post grew as the light outside strengthened.  Simons arrived from his hotel to report that currently very delicate negotiations were underway with the country to the south of Curuguay about giving the hijackers permission to land, and that the Curuguayan officials categorically denied recognizing the sketch of “Diego Volver.”  Steve’s friend Jonesey turned up with news that a pair of reconnaissance planes were being fueled and prepared and would launch at nine to check out the chosen atolls, an urn of better coffee, and a basket of fresh fruit.

At eight, a Mr. Harkness from Government Intelligence came looking for McGarrett.  A tall, thin man wearing wire-rimmed glasses, he identified himself as an expert in the political situation in the area surrounding the hijackers’ country.  Seating himself on a corner of Steve’s desk, he began, “Basically, Curuguay has a military dictatorship headed up by one Generalissimo Santiago, a ‘president for life’ type.  It’s the kind of place where professing undying love for the benevolent leader gets you not shot.”

“So, who are the opposition?” asked the head of Five-O, getting up from his seat behind the desk to pace.

“There are a number of groups, naturally,” Harkness told him.  “The United States nominally backs Santiago, and we believe the Communists, possibly the Chinese, are behind some of the rebel factions.  There was a big dust-up a few years back when Santiago’s son split the country.  He was in his father’s cabinet, and either gained too much popularity for the old man’s ego to take, or, as rumors have it, was actually angling for the top job.”

McGarrett stopped to look across the desk at Harkness.  “Where did the son go?” he asked.

The Intelligence analyst reached into the open box on Steve’s desk for a malasada, examining it skeptically.  “No one seems to know.  Some people think he was killed, some that he escaped to Europe or the U.S.”

Steve perched on the edge of the desk and fished through papers to come up with the sketch of the lead hijacker.  Passing it across to the Intelligence analyst, he asked, “Could this be him?”

Harkness studied it.  “Who can say?”  He took a bite of the pastry in his other hand.  “The last reliable photograph we have of the son is five years old and shows him in standard banana republic dictator uniform with a cap down over his eyes.  The name is suggestive, though.  ‘Volver’ means ‘to return,’ and ‘Diego’…well, ‘San Diego’ and ‘Santiago’ are both Spanish formulations of ‘St. James.’  It could be a coincidence, it’s a common enough name, but....”

“Can you get me a copy of that old photograph?” McGarrett demanded.  “I want to show it to the woman who sold the hijackers their tickets in Los Angeles, and to the HPD officers who went onboard the plane.”

“I’ll get it for you, but I warn you, it’s not very good,” answered Harkness, finishing his breakfast and getting to his feet.

* * *

Danny woke groggily as a shaft of sunlight through the small airplane window fell upon his face.  He struggled painfully to a sitting position, looking around to see that Mrs. Miller was once again sitting beside him in the aisle.  “So, we made it to another morning,” he observed.  “How’s Carlton?”

“Still alive, still unconscious.  I changed his IV an hour ago,” she answered.  “How are you doing?”

“I can’t complain,” he said with a sketch of a smile.

She checked his injuries, then said, concerned, “Keep moving your fingers as much as possible.  I’m getting worried about the state of your hands.”

“Don’t worry, there’s a fair chance I’ll never need them again,” Danny said grimly, wearily leaning his head against the back of the seat whose supports he was tied to.

“Mr. Williams, you were the one telling me to keep up hope earlier,” Mrs. Miller reproved him.

“I’m sorry, I think the pain is getting to me a bit,” he admitted.  “And under the circumstances, do you think you could call me Danny?” he asked.

“I’m Lauren, Danny,” she said with a wavery smile.  “I suppose nurses and cops both have to keep up a good front for others, however they feel inside.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll see your husband again.  What’s his name?” Danny asked.

“Bob,” she answered, smiling shyly.

Danny looked at her, straightening from his crouched position as much as he could and attempting a reassuring smile.  “So, what do you want to tell Bob when you see him again?”

“Oh...I don’t know,” she said, looking down at her hands and fidgeting with the gold band on her ring finger.  “There are so many things—that meeting him was the best thing that ever happened to me, that I’ve been looking forward to our life together here more than anything, that I miss him so much....”  She looked at Danny.  “We were only together five months before he came out here to start the job, and we’ve been apart for the last month.”

“That must have been hard,” he said sympathetically.  “How did you two meet?  Was he a patient?”

“Oh, no,” she said, smiling.  “We met at a party given by one of the doctors at my hospital.  It was love at first sight, and in six months we were married.  What about you, Danny?  Where did you meet your girlfriend?”

“At work.  It took me a while to realize and accept how I felt, and then I thought my feelings couldn’t possibly be returned, but then it...it all happened.  The time we’ve been together, I’ve been happier than I could have imagined,” Danny said, smiling unconsciously.  “All my life, I never realized what love could be like.  But we’ve never actually said, ‘I love you’ to each other.  I...I guess I always just assumed...and now....”

 _We didn’t even kiss goodbye,_ he thought unhappily. _I should have made the move to do it, there in the office, or dropped by Steve’s place before I left for the airport, but I guess I wanted Steve to think it was important enough to make an exception for, and when he didn’t, I was too proud...._

“You’ll get your chance.  And don’t chicken out after you get out of here!” Lauren chided him.

“I won’t,” Danny assured her.  _Steve…if I could just talk to you one more time...._

* * *

At ten yet another visitor arrived at the command post to see the head of  Five-O.  The regional vice president of United Airlines had flown in from California, bringing schematics, cockpit layouts, and Captain Connors, whom he introduced as “the best DC-8 pilot instructor on the West Coast.”

“Thank you, that’s exactly what I need,” McGarrett told him.  “The hijackers are going to need a pilot before they leave, and I’m not sending in a real one.  I don’t need to know how to actually fly the plane, just enough to convince them on the ground.”

“I think I can manage that,” said Connors.  He glanced around the room, spying an open space.  “If it’s OK, I’ll set up on that desk over there.  Let me know when you’re ready for me.”

Steve thanked both men, directing them to the coffee urn sitting on the counter at one side of the room.

Paul Jones, who had been sitting on the corner of McGarrett’s desk drinking coffee during this conversation, stood and came to stand close to his old friend.  “You’re going in as the pilot, huh?” he asked.

“Yes.  I’m not leaving this to anyone else,” McGarrett said tersely.

“Steve...are you and Dan Williams...?” his friend asked softly.

“Yeah,” Steve answered dryly.  “We are.”  An expression of pain passed briefly over his features.

“I wondered, that night he came to your place while we were playing cards,” the Navy man observed, taking a swallow of coffee from his paper cup.

McGarrett gave him a sidelong look.  “Nothing gets by you, does it?” he said ruefully.

“I’ve known you a long time, Steve.  And I know you’ll get him out of there safely,” Jones reassured him with a pat on the arm.

“Thanks, Jonesey,” McGarrett told him.  _Everyone keeps telling me that._   _I wish I could be so confident.  If I can’t save him, if they...._ he refused to finish the thought.  _I’ll never forgive myself._

Kono re-entered the office, having gone down to check in with the HPD forces on the ground.  McGarrett waved him over, calling, “Kono, I have a job for you.”

“Yes, Boss?” the big Hawaiian asked, hurrying across the room.

“You know Tanaka the printer, has a shop down on King?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, from what I hear he’s one of the best forgers in town,” Kono said, coming to stand in front of Steve’s temporary desk.

“I need you to take an order to him,” the head of Five-O instructed.  “Pilot’s license, United crew ID.  Get my picture from the Five-O files.”

“What if he says to take a hike?” his detective asked.

McGarrett gave a wry smile.  “Suggest to him that if he does this for us you might not need to inspect his back room for worker safety violations.  And it’s a rush job—I want it by tonight.”

“OK, Boss,” Kono said.  “What name do you want?”

Jones broke in.  “They won’t believe you’d send a civilian pilot.  But they _might_ buy that you’d use an ex-Navy volunteer who really worked for United.”  He reached into his pocket for his wallet.  “Use my name, and take whatever cards and such you need from here.  And borrow my ring.”  He slipped off his Annapolis class ring and handed it and the wallet to McGarrett.  “You couldn’t use yours—it’d be too risky to carry anything at all with your own name on it.”

“Jonesey...thanks,” Steve said, passing the wallet to Kono and carefully putting the ring into his pocket.

“Maybe he doesn’t know you to look at, but won’t he recognize your voice from the radio?” worried Kono.

“Well, ya’ll know lots a’ pilots hail from our great western states,” drawled McGarrett.  “Somethin’ about the ac-cent is sure soothin’ to thuh average passenjuh.”

Chin, who had come up to the desk during this interchange carrying a stack of files couldn’t smother a laugh.  “Steve, I didn’t know you had it in you!” he exclaimed.

* * *

Danny, once again sitting in the crouch that was the most upright position he could manage with his hands bound to the seat support, was listening to another argument between the hijackers, all of whom but Fernandez were gathered in the cockpit doorway.  It had now been more than forty-eight hours since the hijacking.

Garcia was saying something complicated in excited Spanish, from which the weary detective could only pick out “piloto” and “McGarrett.”

Apparently Williams was not the only one having a problem.  “Hey, man, when you go that fast I can’t follow you!” the fourth hijacker exclaimed in English.

“I _said,_ ” Garcia said, speaking English with exaggerated patience, “We _have_ the _fuel_ we need.  Now we demand a _pilot_ , and go to the rendezvous.  I do not like waiting around while this McGarrett thinks up some plan!”

“What makes you think anyone will still be waiting at the meeting place?  This has been all over the news.  I’m sure they were radioed to split!” said the English-speaking hijacker.

“No!  The plan was that as long as we had control of the plane, they’d wait for us,” insisted Garcia.

“And you believe that?” Diego broke in scornfully.  “I say we go to the country to the south of Curuguay, and I’m in charge here, so that’s what we’re going to do!”  He stalked down the aisle, giving Danny a vicious kick in the midsection on his way past to vent his frustration.

Danny grunted in pain, doubling over to lie behind the front row of seats, trying to catch his breath.

Lauren Miller came hurrying up the aisle from where she had been attending to the injured Captain Carlton in the rear of the plane, glaring at Diego as she brushed past him.  “ _Danny_ ,” she exclaimed in distress, kneeling beside the Five-O detective.

“I’m...OK.”  He straightened up again, wincing. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on the back of the seat in front of him.

“He didn’t need to do that!” she exclaimed indignantly.

“I think it’s more that he _wanted_ to do it,” Danny observed, opening his eyes and giving her a wry smile.  He cast about for a conversational topic to distract them.  “So, tell me,” he asked, “Why did you decide to be a nurse?”

“Oh, the usual reasons, I suppose,” she told him, arranging her skirt over her folded legs as she sat in the aisle.  “I wanted to do something worthwhile, something to help people.  Some of my friends thought I just wanted to meet a rich, handsome doctor and get married, but I can’t imagine feeling that way.  Bob wants me to keep working.  He said my job is a part of me, and that he fell in love with the whole package.”  She gave a little sniff, and blotted her eyes on her sleeve.  “I’m sorry,” she said, “It’s just that thinking about him....”

“I’d offer you my handkerchief, but I think Steve McGarrett has it,” Danny said with a smile.

She sniffed again, smiling back.  “So, Danny, how did you end up working for Mr. McGarrett at Five-O?” she asked.

“Well, I started out as a psychology major,” he said.  “That got me interested in criminal psychology, and...I guess like you I wanted to do something to help people.  I transferred to U. C. Berkeley and switched to police science, and after I graduated I came back home to Honolulu.  Steve hired me to be his partner at Five-O when I’d only been on the force a few years.  He...he said I had the makings of a good cop.  I think he wanted someone he could train from scratch to do things his way,” he told her.

“He sounds kind of intimidating,” she said.

“I was terrified when I started.”  Danny admitted, thinking back to that day.  “And then he made me his second-in-command when I’d only been at Five-O for a year.  He holds all of us to a high standard, but he’s fair, and I’ve come to realize he’s hardest on himself.  And if anything happens to one of us, there’s no one better to have in your corner.  He trusts us to do our jobs, too.  When he leaves me in charge, he doesn’t second-guess my decisions.  He always gives credit where it’s due, and his encouragement means a lot to me,” he said, unconsciously smiling.

“He clearly trusts you a great deal.  And you trust him to get us out of this,” Lauren said, finding Danny’s smile infectious.

“If anyone can, it’s Steve.  I just hope....” Danny trailed off. _I hope in the process I don’t lose the man I can’t live without._   “I hope this can be resolved peacefully,” he substituted aloud.

* * *

It was early afternoon.  McGarrett was pacing the small amount of space available in the temporary command center, waiting for the results of the atoll flyovers.  He wished he had his lanai here, or at least a window, but he didn’t want to leave the office in case the air station called.

The phone on his desk rang.  Eagerly picking up the receiver and saying, “McGarrett,” he was surprised to hear Jenny’s voice on the other end.

“Steve, I have a call for you.  The gentleman won’t give his name, but he was very insistent that you’d want to talk to him,” she said.

“Okay, Jenny, put him on,” Steve told her.  _I hope it’s not some nut...that would be just what I need now...._ he thought.

There was a click, and then, “Good afternoon, Mr. McGarrett,” the person on the other end of the line said in suave, familiar tones.  “Do you remember my voice?”

 _As though I could ever forget it,_ McGarrett thought.  “Hello, Wo Fat,” he answered smoothly.  “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Am I correct in surmising that the Naval aircraft that passed over my countrymen’s boat this morning were there on your orders?” the Chinese agent inquired.

“You can surmise anything you like,” the head of Five-O responded, perching on the edge of his desk.

“I’m doing you a favor, Mr. McGarrett,” Steve’s old adversary told him.  “You can inform your hijackers that they can now expect no assistance from that quarter.”

“Now, why would _you_ want to do me a favor?” McGarrett asked skeptically.

“Of course because I abhor waste and unnecessary bloodshed.  And because, while these men were inept and careless, if they arrived only to find us gone it would create a more permanent breach between my masters and certain forces in their country than seems desirable,” Wo Fat answered.

“I see,” Steve said.

“Oh, and one more thing,” the Chinese agent said.  “I did not intend this hijacking to be so...personal for you, Mr. McGarrett.  Mr. Williams’ presence on the plane was purely accidental.  I wish you luck in securing his safe return.”

“I’ll just bet you do,” the head of Five-O said drily.

“Goodbye, Mr. McGarrett,” came the voice over the phone.

“Aloha, Wo Fat,” he responded crisply, replacing the receiver.

McGarrett stood up from the desk.  “Now, we’re getting somewhere!” he exclaimed to no one in particular.

He picked up the phone and, referring to the list of numbers beside it, dialed Barber’s Point Naval Air Station.  “Yes, this is Steve McGarrett.  I need to speak to Captain Jackson,” he told the female voice on the other end.

“One moment, please,” she said.

After a brief pause, a voice came.  “McGarrett?  Jackson here.  I was about to call you.  Our pilots radioed in that they saw a large unidentified vessel moored near your first target.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear!” Steve exclaimed.  “Thank you, Captain, for your assistance.”

“What the Admiral wants, he gets, and apparently in his book you’re alright,” Jackson told him.  “Good luck, McGarrett, and I’m glad we could help.”

Steve replaced the phone receiver and surveyed the room.  The man he sought was nowhere in sight.  “Chin!” he called over to the adjacent desk occupied by the Five-O detective.

“Yes, Steve?” Kelly said, hurrying over.

“Track down Simons and tell him that he has until sunset to find someone from the country to the south of Curuguay to talk to the hijackers, otherwise I’m going to invent one, diplomatic incident or no!” the head of Five-O commanded.

Leaving an HPD officer in charge of the phone and radio, McGarrett crossed the room to learn the ins and outs of the DC-8 from Captain Connors.

* * *

Once again Steve watched the Hawaii sunset soften the angular landscape of concrete and metal outside the terminal window.  Much closer now than before, the United plane gleamed, a sleek, beautiful captive.  _Hang in there, Danno,_ he thought.  _Everything I can think of to do has been done, and it should all be over by this time tomorrow.  One way or another...._

His grim reverie was interrupted by Chin Ho Kelly appearing at his elbow.

“Simons just called to report.  We’re all set, Steve,” he informed his boss.  “Here are the details,” he added, offering him a handwritten sheet.

McGarrett quickly scanned the paper, then wheeled and hurried back to the command post, where Kono and the various other agency representatives were standing around his desk expectantly.

Setting the report down on the desktop, he stood behind the desk facing the waiting semicircle.  Taking a deep breath, he picked up the radio mic.  “McGarrett to Diego Volver.  McGarrett to Diego Volver.”

“Diego here.  Do you have something for me, McGarrett?” came the unpleasantly familiar voice.

“I have a message for you from an old adversary of mine,” Steve said blandly.  “He said to tell you that your friends waiting at Johnson Atoll found things a bit too hot there and took off.  I believe his exact words were that ‘you can now expect no assistance from that quarter.’ ”

There was a long pause.

“Are you still there, Mr. Volver?” the head of Five-O asked, sitting down on the edge of the desk.

“Yes.  I have no idea what you’re talking about, McGarrett,” Diego said, his voice not as confident as his words.  “Now, have you arranged safe passage for us to the country to the south of ours, or would you like to hear Detective Williams scream?”

Steve clenched his jaw, forcing his voice to remain calm.  “The State Department has made an agreement with the foreign minister of that country to allow you to land.  He will call at eight PM Honolulu time to discuss the necessary arrangements with you.”

“Very well.  Obviously, we further need a pilot,” Diego continued.

“The deal is that if you want a pilot, you release the hostages first,” McGarrett informed him.

“If we release the hostages, we have no leverage with the pilot.  We can’t shoot him, because we need him to fly the plane,” the hijacker said reasonably.

“You want me to send in the pilot with nothing in return?  No dice,” snapped the head of Five-O, leaning intensely over the radio.  “Send the hostages out first.”

“And then if you have sent a cop, instead of a pilot?  I don’t think so.  Here is my compromise.  As soon as it becomes light tomorrow morning, so I can see any tricks you might be up to, we begin.  I will send out the women and children first, as a gesture of good will.  You send in the pilot.  Then I send out the men,” Diego proposed.  “I’ll keep your Mr. Williams.  He’s in no shape to give me any trouble,” he said with a snicker.

Steve’s knuckles whitened on the microphone, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Kono make an involuntary move towards the radio, gently restrained by Chin.

Diego was continuing, “Now, about the pilot.  I know you’ll send a...what is the English term?  Ah, yes, a ‘ringer’ if you can, so here’s how it will work.  After the women and children are off the plane, the pilot will come up the stairs alone.  We’ll open the door and let him in, then close the door behind him.  We’ll examine his credentials and take him to the cockpit to perform the preflight preparations.  If he appears to be who he seems, we’ll re-open the door and release all the hostages except Williams.”

“The door stays open until all the hostages are out,” McGarrett stipulated.

There was a pause, then his adversary’s voice came from the radio once more.  “Agreed.  But only if we see _no one_ anywhere near the plane.  No cops, no soldiers, no press, no medics.  I want all people and vehicles against the wall of the terminal building, no closer.”

Steve looked up at the little cluster of his assembled forces standing at one corner of the desk, giving them a half smile.  Chin looked cautiously pleased, Kono determined, and Duke impassive as ever.  _This is what we hoped for.  Having the door open will give us a fighting chance, anyway,_ he thought.  Turning his attention back to the radio, he raised the mic and demanded, “What about the pilot, Carlton?”

“He can come out with the women, but they’ll have to carry him,” the hijacker said.  “You sent in a stretcher as part of the medical supplies earlier; they can use that.”

“Can all the other passengers make it out under their own power?” McGarrett asked.

“Yes, Williams is the only one in bad shape, and he won’t be coming out,” Diego said with an unpleasant note in his voice.

Steve struggled to keep his voice even.  “When will you release Williams and the pilot?”

“When we arrive at the country south of Curuguay and are convinced our welcome is genuine.  Then they can go free,” said the voice from the radio.  “Well, Mr. McGarrett, do you accept my terms?”

There was a pause.

“Agreed,” Steve snapped.  “McGarrett out.”

“Do you think they’d actually let you go?” asked Carstairs, the FBI man, lounging against the edge of Steve’s desk.

“Not a chance,” said the head of Five-O, shaking his head.  “The agreement with the foreign minister of the country south of Curuguay was to _tell_ the hijackers they’d give them safe passage, under the condition that we keep it to ourselves.  They adamantly refused to actually do anything that might anger Santiago.”

“Oh,” Carstairs said soberly.

* * *

Danny and Lauren listened raptly to the radio interchange as it came over the plane’s PA system.  When it was over, the Five-O detective observed with a half smile, “Well, it looks like you’re getting out, anyway.  And hopefully it will be in time for Captain Carlton.”

“Oh, Danny, do you think they’ll actually let you go when you get there?” Lauren said anxiously.

“Sure,” he lied.  “They’ll have no reason to keep us.”

“I was thinking about what you said...about what things we’d tell our loved ones if we got out.  Would you like me to carry a note out for your girlfriend?  You could tell her that you love her just...just in case,” she suggested.

“Would you?” he asked.  “I...well, it would mean a lot to me.  I have a notebook and pencil in my pocket over there,” he said, painfully turning his head to look over at the seat where the hijacker had tossed his jacket.  “I’m afraid I have to ask you to write for me—my hands aren’t any use like this.”

Lauren went to fetch Danny’s jacket, then returned to sit beside him in the aisle.  “Danny, I hate to think of you all alone on the plane with the hijackers,” she said, near tears.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be alright,” he assured her.  _Steve won’t let them take off with me on board, he’ll know that’s a death warrant.  And he’d never let them kidnap another pilot.  So this will be his attempt to take the plane.  At least it will all be over soon...Steve, please be careful!_ he thought as Mrs. Miller extracted the notebook and pencil from his jacket pocket.

“Okay, I’m ready.  Go ahead,” she told him.

Danny cleared his throat, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“Just imagine you’re talking to her,” Lauren suggested.

“Okay....”  He took a deep breath.  “ ‘To the one who means more to me than anything else in the world’,” he began.  “ ‘As I wait here on this airplane, my biggest regret is that I never told you that I love you.  I guess I always thought you knew, but I’m sorry that I didn’t have the guts to actually say the words.  I hope I’ll get the chance to tell you in person, but…but in case I don’t, I wanted to say it here.’ ”  He watched as Lauren wrote.

She looked up from the page.  “What next?”

He continued, “ ‘I am so glad that you chose not to come on this trip.  I know I’ll see you soon, but if things go wrong I don’t want you to blame yourself or feel any guilt about whatever happens.  Please, please take care of yourself.’ ”

Lauren was crying.  “Danny....”

“Please sign it, ‘Love, Danny’,” he told her.

She fished a kleenex out of her pocket and blew her nose, then finished the note.

 “It’ll be okay,” he said, trying to convince them both.

“Who should I give this to?” she asked, wiping at her eyes.

“Give it to Steve McGarrett.  He’ll know who it’s for,” Williams answered.

She tore off the sheet, folded it, and tucked it into her pocket.

* * *

McGarrett paced the midnight hallways of the empty terminal, trying to think of anything else he could do to make their plan more likely to succeed.  Chin Ho Kelly once again stopped him as he passed the entrance to the corridor leading to the office command post.

“Steve, everything’s ready,” Chin reported.  “The only thing left is for you to get some rest.”

“You’re right.”  The head of Five-O tried to smile.  He didn’t want to admit even to himself that the reason he wasn’t crashed on a cot right now was that he was afraid of the dream.  _It was all just a terrible mistake._   He shuddered.  “You, too, Chin,” he said, turning to his detective.  “Go home and get a few hours of sleep.  I want us all ready to go at dawn.”

“You want me to stop by your place and get you a change of clothes?” the Chinese detective asked.

“Yeah.  One way or another I’m going to have to face the press tomorrow.”  Steve took his keys from his pocket and detached a pair from the ring, handing them to Chin Ho.  “Could you bring my silver cufflinks?  They’re in a box in the top right drawer of my dresser.”  _Danny’s gift to me on our first anniversary...some small connection to him._

“Of course, Steve,” Kelly said, his face full of compassion.

“Thanks, Chin, I appreciate that,” his boss told him, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

McGarrett checked in with the skeleton crew in the office, then went to lay down on his cot _.  A blanket, a pillow, clean clothes,_ he thought as he drifted towards sleep.  _And in the morning I’ll take a shower in the crew locker room.  Luxuries Danny doesn’t have.  Danny...._

 _Danny walked into the room with Chin, dressed for a day off in an aloha shirt and slacks.  He gave Steve a sunny smile._

 _“Danny?  You can’t be here, you’re on the plane,” Steve said, sitting up on his cot._

 _Chin answered, “Great news, Steve!  It was all just a terrible mistake!  Now, I’ll leave you two alone,” he said with a wink, closing the door behind him._

 _“Danno?” Steve asked in bewilderment.  “You can’t be here.  We’re at the airport...the hijacking....” He felt he was losing touch with reality._

 _Danny was sitting next to him on the cot with his arms around Steve’s neck, pressing gentle kisses down the side of his face—the corner of his eye, the side of his jaw—then he covered Steve’s mouth with his own._

 _Steve gave up caring what was real and what wasn’t, and kissed Danny in return, pressing him back against the cot.  He unbuttoned his partner’s shirt, kissing his way down Danny’s chest.  He worked his way over to one nipple and caressed it with his tongue, at the same time moving his hand down to stroke Danny through the fabric of the khaki slacks he wore._

 _“Steve....” Danny moaned._

“Steve.  Steve, you said to wake you at four,” Chin said, a hand on Steve’s shoulder, gently shaking him.

“But....” McGarrett said, disoriented.  _You said it was all just a terrible mistake._ The blow didn’t hurt any less the second time, even though he’d seen it coming.  He passed his hand over his eyes to hide his feelings and, forcing his voice to be steady, said, “I’m…I’m going to grab a quick shower, then I’ll be in.”

“I brought your clothes,” Chin told him, hooking the hangers onto a wall peg.  “The cufflinks are in your jacket pocket.”

“Thanks.  I appreciate that.”  Steve managed to sketch his detective a half smile, then went to get ready.

* * *

Danny and Lauren Miller sat on the aircraft floor watching the light outside gradually strengthen in a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

There was increasing activity outside and on the cockpit radio as preparations were made for the hostage exchange.

“Lauren...I just wanted to thank you for everything,” the young detective said, turning to face her as well as he could.

“I wish I could have done more for you,” she said unhappily.

“You made the experience almost bearable,” Danny said with a plausible version of his usual smile.  He found that the lack of food and sleep was combining with the constant pain to make him feel increasingly light-headed.

“I’m glad I met you, Danny Williams,” she said solemnly.  “Will I see you when you get back to Honolulu?”

“I promise,” he told her.

There was a gentle thump as the air stairs touched the plane’s hull.  Over the radio they heard Diego ordering the listeners in the command post, “Okay, now get everyone away from the stairs.  Right back against the terminal building!”

Fernandez was gathering the female passengers, lining them up in the aisle.  “Women and children, the front of the plane,” he called.  “Men in the back.”

“Danny....” Lauren began.

“Go,” he told her firmly.  “Say ‘Hi’ to Bob for me.  And look after Captain Carlton.”

She put a hand on his arm.  “I’ll give Mr. McGarrett your note.  I’m sure you’ll be together soon.”

“I know I’ll see him once more, anyway,” Danny said.  _Steve, I know you’ll come for me, and I know the sort of chances you take.  Please, please be careful,_ he thought desperately.

“Hey you, nurse, get over here and help with the pilot,” ordered Fernandez.

“Take care, Danny,” she said, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“You, too, Lauren,” he said, watching as she stood and went to bend over the stretcher carrying the unconscious pilot.

Garcia swung the handle down, then pushed, swinging the aircraft door open.  Diego stood in front the cockpit door holding a gun loosely pointed at the exit, while Juan herded the departing passengers from behind and Fernandez, with the other gun, watched over the male passengers gathered in the back of the plane.

Lauren Miller directed operations as the plane’s stewardesses formed up around the stretcher on which Captain Carlton lay motionless.  They moved slowly towards the door, the tall blonde Gracie giving Danny a worried look and a hopeful wave, and then through it, Lauren holding the IV bag high.  The rest of the women followed, some of them crying as they called goodbyes to their loved ones left on board, until Garcia angrily ordered silence.

Danny struggled into the most upright position he could, fighting against the swimming in his head.  _It can’t be long now before I see Steve.  He’ll wait for the pilot to be brought on board and the male passengers sent out, then I’m sure he’ll make his move._   _I suppose they’ll send a military pilot,_ he speculated.

After the last of the women filed out the door, everyone waited tensely.

“The pilot is coming,” called Garcia, looking cautiously outside.

“Garcia, take the gun from Fernandez and hold it on Williams!” ordered Diego.  “Juan, you go wait with the passengers in the back.”

Garcia fetched the gun from his compatriot and came to sit on the arm of the seat Danny was crouched in front of, reaching down to press the barrel to the back of the detective’s head.

A tall figure eclipsed the light in the doorway.  Danny peered between the seats in front of him and saw Steve, in a United pilot’s uniform, looking grim, resolute, and impossibly handsome.  He quickly looked down, afraid that the hijackers would see the recognition on his face.

* * *

Steve McGarrett stepped through the airplane door and looked around, seeing two men with guns, one by the cockpit door, and the other sitting behind...Danny.  Danny’s eyes were aimed away from him, but Steve could see that his partner’s white shirt was splashed with dark bloodstains, and his face was bruised and swollen.  _He looks rough, but he’s alive!_ Steve thought, his heart leaping. _No time to think about that now…._

The hijacker by the cockpit door gestured with the gun, ordering a third, unarmed man, “Fernandez.  Take off his jacket and search him.  Be thorough.”  McGarrett recognized the gunman’s voice as that of the leader, Diego.

“Turn around!” Fernandez ordered McGarrett.

Steve complied.  The hijacker grabbed his jacket by the collar and roughly pulled it off, tossing it over one of the first row seats, then shoved him up against the cabin wall and patted him down, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“No weapons,” Fernandez reported.

“Look in the wallet,” instructed Diego.

Flipping through the contents Fernandez read off, “Pilot’s license, United crew ID, Hawaii driver’s license.  The name is ‘Paul Jones.’  There is also a department store credit card, a library card, and some money.”

“What’s that ring he’s wearing?” the lead hijacker demanded.  “It looks military.”

Fernandez grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled off his borrowed ring.  “United States Naval Academy,” he read, then held the ring up to the light coming through the open door.  “It’s inscribed inside with the name ‘Paul Jones’.”

“So, Captain Jones, you were a Navy man?” Diego asked.

“Ah guess ah was,” McGarrett replied in his assumed drawl.

Diego nodded to Fernandez, who tossed Steve back the ring.

“As long as you know how to fly this plane, I don’t care where you came from,” Diego told the head of Five-O.  “Just remember, any heroics and there will be cop brains all over first class.”

Steve risked a glance at Danny, still looking down with the hijacker’s gun held against his curly hair, and felt a wave of fury rising.  _Not yet.  After they release the other passengers and I get them to take the gun off him.  Then...._ he thought fiercely.

The lead hijacker also looked in Danny’s direction.  “Garcia!  Any activity outside?” he demanded.

“Nothing.  Everyone is back against the terminal as you told them,” the hijacker with the gun reported, peering out the window.

 “Good,” Diego said with satisfaction, then turned to McGarrett, ordering, “Get into the cockpit and start your preparations.”  He followed Steve into the cockpit, holding the gun on him.

The head of Five-O sat in the pilot’s seat and started flipping switches as Captain Connor had taught him.  He checked the flaps and hydraulics, then continued down the list, Diego watching him closely.  McGarrett asked him, “Shall I start the engines?”

“No.  Wait until we get the rest of the hostages off and the door closed.  I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us in the noise.”  He stuck his head out of the cockpit to order, “Fernandez!  Juan!  Send out the men.”

McGarrett monitored their progress out of the corner of the wrap-around cockpit windows while continuing the preflight checks.  When the last of the passengers could be seen hurrying across the tarmac, he flipped a switch, activating a warning light.  He frowned, tapping at it, and toggled another switch back and forth, but the light stayed lit.

“Excuse me,” he said to Diego.  “Is there any reason the rear cargo door should be open?  Ahm gettin’ a warnin’ light.”

“The cargo door?  Is there an entrance to the cargo area from inside the plane?” the hijacker demanded.

Steve climbed out of his seat, facing the cockpit door.  He pointed down the length of the plane, saying, “Sure is, back in the tail.”

Diego swore in Spanish, then exclaimed, “McGarrett!  I should have known he would plan something.  I’m going to check out the cargo door.”  He ran out of the cockpit, calling, “Garcia, come watch Jones!  You, Jones, stay here!”

The man who had been pointing the gun at Danny came to stand in the cockpit door, while their leader ran toward the rear of the plane, followed by the two unarmed men.

As Garcia turned to watch his compatriots’ progress down the aisle of the plane McGarrett leapt on him, slamming the hijacker’s gun hand into the doorframe until he dropped the weapon, then giving him a couple of sharp punches.

Diego turned to run back up the aisle, shoving past Fernandez and firing at McGarrett as the head of Five-O dove for Garcia’s dropped gun.  He came up with it and returned fire, hitting Diego squarely in the chest.  The hijacker collapsed in the aisle as Garcia jumped on Steve from behind.  McGarrett threw him off and knocked him to the ground with a punch.  He grabbed the hijacker by his shirt collar and, kneeling over him, repeatedly slammed his fists into Garcia’s face, all the frustration, anxiety, and adrenaline of the past three days coming together with the sight of him pointing a gun at Danny’s head to give Steve the overwhelming desire to kill the man with his bare hands.

Steve was only dimly aware of the fact that Kono and Duke, having heard the shots, had burst in through the aircraft door from their place of concealment under the stairs.  Kono quickly ducked behind the first row of seats and shot Fernandez, who had scooped up Diego’s gun where it had fallen from his lifeless hand and was aiming it at Steve.  The hijacker crumpled, clutching his leg and screaming.

As Kono ran to pick up Fernandez’s dropped gun, Duke grabbed Steve’s shoulder and pulled him off the now-unconscious Garcia.  “Steve!  It’s over!  We’ve got them,” he told the head of Five-O, who was breathing hard, his knuckles bloodied.

McGarrett got to his feet and took in his surroundings.  Diego lay dead.  Fernandez was on his side in the aisle, groaning and clutching his leg, and the fourth hijacker, whatever his name was, was cowering in a row of seats towards the rear of the plane with his hands in the air begging, “Don’t shoot!  Don’t shoot!”

“Kono!  Book them!” McGarrett ordered.  “Duke!  Get an ambulance crew to take care of these two,” he ordered, indicating the wounded Fernandez and Garcia.

Now that everything seemed to be more or less under control, Steve was finally free to do what he’d been longing to for the past three horrible days.  He reached his partner in two steps and dropped to his knees beside him in the aisle.

“Danny!  Danno, are you okay?” he demanded, taking his partner by the shoulders and looking him over.

“I am now, Steve,” Danny said, smiling up at him.

Steve looked down to work on freeing his partner, then stopped in horror.  “Danny, your hands....”

“Yeah.  They’ve got me tied with wire.  The stuff around my wrists is pretty tight,” the younger man explained.

McGarrett looked down the aisle.  The complement of law enforcement on the plane was rapidly increasing, and uniformed HPD officers seemed to have the conscious hijackers well in hand.  “Kono!” he called to his detective.  “Find a toolkit somewhere.  I need wire cutters!”  As the big Hawaiian hurried off in search of the required implement, Steve worked the wire holding Danny’s wrists to the seat anchor loose and unwound the length binding his ankles.

“I knew...I knew you’d come for me.  I’m so glad you weren’t shot,” Danny said,  leaning his head on McGarrett’s shoulder.

“Danny....” Steve began, his voice unsteady.  Unable to continue in words, he wrapped his arms around his partner and held him close, until they were interrupted by Kono hurrying back up the stairs onto the plane.

“Here, Boss, I found some wire cutters!” Kono exclaimed, passing them over.  He looked down, and his eyes widened.  “Danny, you’re a mess, bruddah!”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Kono,” Williams said with a smile.

“Boss, you want I should help Danny down to da ambulance?” Kono offered.

“No, I’ll take care of that,” Steve said firmly.  “Help Duke, then find the hijacker’s hand luggage and send it to the lab.”

“Okay, Boss,” Kono said, crossing to Garcia, who was sitting up and groaning.

Chin appeared in the aircraft doorway.  “Danny!” he exclaimed, beaming, then, taking in the young detective’s battered appearance, added, “You look pretty bad.”

“So I hear,” Williams said with a wry smile.

“Chin, you’re in charge of the scene here,” McGarrett instructed the Chinese detective.  “We’ll need to identify and search the hijackers’ luggage, and get photos of all four of them, since we still don’t know who they really are.”

“Will do, Steve,” Chin said, giving Danny a last happy look before exiting the plane.

McGarrett, holding the wire cutters Kono had given him, looked at Danny’s wrists.  “Are you sure you don’t want to wait and have a doctor do this? he asked seriously.

“No, I want it off now,” his partner told him firmly.

“I’m afraid this is going to hurt.  It’s cut pretty deep,” Steve warned him.

He worked the wire cutters under the wire where Danny’s wrists crossed and cut through.  Then, steeling himself, he peeled the wire strands from the flesh as gently as he could.

Danny inhaled sharply once as the wire began to tear free, then closed his eyes and clenched his jaw determinedly.

“It’s OK to yell, Danno,” Steve said into his ear.

“What, in front of ‘Steve McGarrett, Man of Iron’,” his partner answered with an attempt at a smile.

“Just flesh and blood,” Steve said softly.

Danny, reminded of a precious memory in a hospital room, did smile at that.

McGarrett finished unwinding the wire, tossing it aside.  “Can you move your fingers at all?” he asked, concerned.

“A bit,” Danny said, making the attempt, then crying “Ahh!” unable to hold back as feeling returned to his hands.  “God, Steve....” he said through clenched teeth, sweat standing out on his face.

 “Easy, Danny, easy.”  McGarrett had his arms around his partner once again, holding him close, their little tableau untouched by the controlled chaos going on around them.  Kono reappeared, giving Steve and Danny a look in passing as he led a group of airline ground crew down the aisle, followed soon thereafter by Chin with a retinue of lab technicians.

After a time, Danny relaxed somewhat.  “Okay...it’s not so bad now,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“Can you stand?” McGarrett asked.

“I think so, if you give me a hand.”

Steve stood up, helping his partner to his feet.

“Let’s get out of here.  Can I lean on you?” Danny asked.

“Always, Danno,” Steve said softly, putting an arm around his partner’s shoulders.  Together they made their way to the aircraft door and stepped through.  As they paused at the top of the stairs, blinking in the bright sunlight, McGarrett looked down to find that someone had let the press through the barriers around the plane and that they had wasted no time in setting up an array of cameras.  “Smile, Danno,” he said.  “I’m afraid we’re going to be the front-page picture on every newspaper in the islands tomorrow.”

“I hope they get my good side.  The one I can see out of,” his partner rejoined.

As they limped their way down the stairs, Steve was glad to see Duke run over from the cluster of cars next to the terminal building, bringing HPD officers to keep the press back and let the two detectives pass through, the reporters’ shouted questions washing over them.  They made it to the cluster of assembled emergency vehicles waiting beside the terminal building, pausing in the shelter of an army truck.

“We need to get you checked out by the docs.  Can you stand?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, my legs are fine now that I’ve stretched them a bit.  I just wanted an excuse not to let go of you for a bit,” Danny said sheepishly.

“Me, too,” Steve admitted.

They stood for a last precious moment holding each other.  Then Steve escorted Danny over to a waiting ambulance, reluctantly relinquishing him to the attentions of the white-coated attendants while hovering nearby.

A small Asian doctor seated the injured detective on the back deck of the ambulance.  “Have you experienced any nausea, or blurred vision?” he asked, gently examining the cut on Danny’s temple.

“No, just a bit of a headache,” Williams reported.

“These cuts on your wrists are fairly deep, and your hands are swollen.  Wiggle your fingers?” the doctor requested.

Danny did so, wincing.  “Lauren...Mrs. Miller told me to keep moving them as much as I could,” he said.

“Who is Mrs. Miller?” asked Steve, leaning on the side of the ambulance and carefully monitoring the proceedings.

“One of the other passengers was a nurse,” Danny explained.  “She helped Captain Carlton and me as much as the hijackers would allow.  She’s a remarkable young woman...I owe her a lot.”

The doctor looked up at McGarrett.  “He should have a more thorough exam to rule out more serious problems with the head wound and check for nerve damage in his hands, and he needs the cuts on his wrists taken care of.”

“Okay, doc, but I don’t need an ambulance,” Danny insisted, standing.  He walked back towards their previous haven behind the parked truck as though to distance himself from the possibility, his partner at his heels.  “What I really need is a shower and a change of clothes.”

 Steve looked around.  “Kono!” he called, having spotted his detective talking to a ground crew member next to a cart loaded with what looked like hand luggage.

Kono waved, then turned to gather a few items from the cart before hurrying over.  “Yes, Boss?” he asked as he arrived, slightly out of breath.  “I found the hijackers’ bags and sent them to Che in the lab.  The airline is gonna take care of sending the passengers’ things to them,” he reported.  “Also, I got your and Danny’s stuff here,” he said, displaying the items in question.

“Thanks, Kono,” Steve said, accepting his wallet and the borrowed pilot’s jacket from his detective.  He continued, “I’d like you to look after Danno.  Drive him to the hospital, then take him home so he can wash up.  Afterwards, if he’s feeling up to it, bring him to Five-O.”

“I can drive myself back to Five-O,” Danny protested.

“Not with your hands like that,” his boss said firmly.  “Besides, that crowd of vultures will probably be waiting on the steps, and I’d like you to have an escort.”

“Let me drive you, bruddah!” Kono requested earnestly, beaming at his friend.  “I’ll go get my car and pull it ’round here.”  He hurried off.

Steve turned to his partner.  “I’m sorry, Danno, you know I’d do it myself, but I can’t just leave this zoo to Chin.  I wish....” he said, looking around in frustration at the activity surrounding them.

“It’s OK, Steve, I understand.”  Danny smiled at him.

 _All I’ve asked for these past three days was to see that smile again, even one more time.  I’ve regretted so many things—that I didn’t put him first, that I let the job get in the way, that I didn’t even kiss him goodbye...and now that I have him back, I still can’t do any better,_ Steve thought bitterly, shaking his head, his jaw clenched in anger at himself.

“Steve....” Danny began, moving to stand close to him in lieu of reaching out with his damaged hands.

He was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Duke Lukela, presumably tipped off to their location by Kono.  “Steve! The hijackers are all in custody,” he reported crisply.

“Thanks, Duke,” McGarrett said.  “I’ll be heading back to the Palace shortly, so send anyone who needs to see me there.”

“Will do,” Lukela reported impassively, then added, “It’s nice to see you on your feet, Danny,” his face transformed by a rare smile as he turned to head towards the terminal building.

Danny had turned back to Steve and opened his mouth to speak again when a familiar black car pulled up in front of them with a flourish.  “Steve, don’t look like that,” he said in response to his partner’s expression as Kono jumped out of the car.  “I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon, Danno,” McGarrett said softly to himself as the car drove off, feeling an irrational pang at letting his partner out of his sight, and a surge of weariness as the adrenaline of the rescue wore off, but over everything, joy at the knowledge that they would have time, now, to erase the regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hijacking is resolved, and Danny's safely off the plane, but the story's not over yet...


	4. Dénoument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a great holiday season. :-)

Chin Ho Kelly walked into McGarrett’s office, where Steve seemed to be having at least three separate telephone conversations at once, stabbing at the phone buttons with his left forefinger to switch between them as he stood behind his desk.

“Yes, the passengers are safely off the plane.  We’ll be having a press conference this afternoon.  Yes, the steps of the Iolani Palace.”  He looked up to say, “Hang on, Chin, I’ll be with you in a minute,” then pressed a button.

“Thank you for waiting.  No.  No, I don’t think we reopened the airport prematurely.  The hijackers made no claim to have any sort of explosive device, we kept that entire end of the terminal closed off, and it was important that we not leave travelers stranded any longer than necessary.  This is an island, Mr. Cooper.  Of course we’ll cooperate fully with the NTSB’s investigation.  You’re welcome.  Aloha.”  He sighed and switched lines.

“Hello?  Yes...Nakamura-san, I’m sorry you were kept waiting.  Please tell Mr. and Mrs. Yoshida’s families that they are safe and unharmed.  We are putting them up in the Ilikai Hotel, and United Airlines will fly them home as soon as the official investigation is completed.  Arigatou and aloha.”

McGarrett pressed the button for the intercom.  “Jenny, why are you giving me calls from the Japanese Consulate?  Can’t Simons deal with those?”

“I’m sorry, Boss, Mr. Simons went back to his hotel,” she told him.  “He said he was sure you’d want to handle everything personally.”

“Beautiful,” McGarrett said.  “Thanks, Jenny.”

McGarrett looked up, giving Kelly a rueful look as he put the receiver back on the hook.

“You did ride him pretty hard, Steve,” the Chinese detective pointed out.

“I only expected him to do his job.  What have you got for me?”  McGarrett leaned across the desk to take the folders Chin passed him.

“Reports on the hijackers.  Autopsy on the leader, Diego, shows nothing unusual.  Kono got the one who called himself Fernandez in the leg.  He’s out of surgery, but the docs won’t let us talk to him yet,” Chin said.

“What about Garcia?” McGarrett asked, coming around to the front of the desk and leaning on the edge.

“In the hospital with a fractured cheekbone and two broken ribs,” Chin reported.  “He’s awake.”

“Talking?” Steve asked, giving his bandaged right hand a rueful glance as he flipped through the report.

“Not a word,” the Chinese detective told him.  “Not to us, and not to anyone else, either.  The FBI and a guy from Military Intelligence tried questioning him and Juan, that’s what the fourth hijacker says his name is, but no luck.”

“Thanks, Chin,” McGarrett said, “I’ll want to talk to them myself, but we need a lever first.”

“I sent all of their prints to the FBI on the mainland, and wired photos to Los Angeles,” Chin said.

“Good, good,” the head of Five-O told him, continuing to read.  “What about Carlton?”

“He’s in surgery,” Chin reported.  “I left an officer there to keep an eye on things.”

“Keep me updated.  And, Chin....” Steve looked up from the report.  “If Danny comes in, I’d like you to take his statement.”

“You sure you don’t want to do it yourself?” his detective asked.

“No, I think it will be easier for him to tell you,” McGarrett said, closing the folder he held.  “With me, I’m afraid he might want to hold back the worst parts.”

“Okay, Steve, will do.  Is he...what did the docs say about Danny’s condition?” Chin Ho asked, concerned.  “He looked pretty bad on the plane.”

“I had Kono take him to the hospital for X-rays,” he told Chin, his voice grim.  “His wrists....”  Steve abruptly stood and strode over to face out the window.

Chin shook his head sadly.

After a pause, McGarrett continued briskly, “The FAA and NTSB are sending teams.  They’ll need copies of the passenger statements and access to the aircraft.”

“I’m on it, Steve,” Chin said, turning to leave.  “Oh, one more thing.  There’s a lady passenger waiting to see you in the outer office.”

“Can’t someone else deal with whatever it is?” McGarrett asked tiredly, turning to toss the report he still carried onto his desk.

“She told me she’d wait until you were free, but she has to see you in person.  She says she has something she needs to give only to you.  A Mrs. Miller,” the Chinese detective explained.

“Mrs. Miller?” McGarrett looked up.  “Send her in.”  He pressed the intercom button.  “Jenny, hold my calls.”

Chin Ho exited the office.  A minute later, Lauren came tentatively through the door.

“Mrs. Miller, please come in.”  McGarrett stood, ushering her to a seat in front of his desk before perching on the edge.  “I understand I have you to thank for looking after Danny.  And Captain Carlton,” he remembered to add.

“I wish I could have done more,” she said.  “They’re both heroes!  If it weren’t for that stupid, cowardly man hitting Danny on the head, they would have saved all of us three days ago.”

“Yes, I intend to have a word with Mr. Brown,” McGarrett said ominously.

“Even when he was in so much pain and it looked like...like we might never get off that plane, Danny was trying to keep my spirits up,” Mrs. Miller told him earnestly.  “My husband and I were only married six months ago, and I was pretty upset that...that I might never see Bob again.”

As the head of Five-O looked on sympathetically, she said, “Anyway, the reason I’m here....Danny and I, to pass the time, we talked about what we would tell our loved ones, if we could see them again.  He said he had someone special waiting for him, too, so when we heard that the women and children would be able to leave I offered to take a note from him...just...just in case.”

“That was a kind thought,” Steve said.  _What did Danny tell her?  Surely not about us...._

Mrs. Miller was continuing.  “He said to give it to you, Mr. McGarrett, that you’d know who it was for.  Of course, now he can say what he wanted in person, but I thought it might be a nice keepsake.”  She opened her handbag and took out a folded piece of notebook paper, standing and handing it to Steve.

The head of Five-O blinked hard to hide his emotions.  He cleared his throat.  “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.  I’ll...I’ll see that it gets to the right person.  Danny’s still at the hospital having his injuries checked out, but I know he’ll want to see you.  Are you at the Ilikai?”

“No, I was flying out to join my husband, and he has an apartment here already.  If you could give Danny my telephone number?”  She wrote on a piece of paper and handed it to Steve.

“Of course, and I thank you again.”  He shook her hand, then clasped her shoulder briefly.

“I’m glad I got to meet you in person, Mr. McGarrett,” she said with a smile.  “Danny talked about you a lot.”

The intercom buzzed.  “Boss, the senator from California is on the line, and he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” came Jenny’s voice.

“Okay, put him through,” McGarrett told her.  As Mrs. Miller left the office, Steve tucked the folded paper into his inside jacket pocket, beside Danny’s handkerchief, carefully transferred from his other suit.  _I’ll read it later when all this calms down,_ he thought.

* * *

A bit later, Kono knocked briefly at the door to McGarrett’s office before entering, followed by Danny.  The head of Five-O was standing in shirtsleeves leaning over his desk talking intensely into the telephone, looking exhausted and harassed.

When he glanced up and saw them, McGarrett said into the phone, “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to call you back,” and set the receiver back on the hook.

Kono stepped up to the desk and reported, “The X-rays show no skull fracture or internal bleeding, and the docs don’t think Danny has any permanent nerve damage from the wire, so he should get full use of his hands back in a few days.”

 _Thank God for that,_ Steve thought, avoiding looking over at his partner for fear of what would show on his face.

Kono continued, “The cuts on his wrists are pretty deep, though.  They put antibiotic ointment on but the doc said they’re gonna leave scars.  Otherwise, he just has a lot of bruises, some of them pretty bad.”

“I can tell him myself,” protested Danny.

“The boss told me take care of you, I’m reporting how the job went,” Kono said righteously.

“Thanks, Kono,” McGarrett said, forcing his attention back to the job at hand.  “I’d like you to collect all the passenger statements from HPD and go through them for any information about the hijackers.  Look for anything they said that would tell us more about who they are and what they wanted.  I need something to use when I question the surviving men.  And stay updated on Captain Carlton’s condition.  He had the best chance to hear them say something during the takeover.”

“Right, Boss.”  Kono strode from the room.

“Danny....”  As the door closed behind the Hawaiian detective, Steve came around the desk and put his hands on his partner’s shoulders, looking him up and down.  The younger man had a large square of white bandage taped to his left temple, and the left side of his face was badly bruised, his eye swollen almost closed.  He had an obvious chunk of his curly hair missing on that side, reminding McGarrett of things he didn’t want to think about.  Danny’s hands didn’t look nearly as bad as they had before, but they were still a bit swollen, and a neat cuff of bandage circled each wrist.  He was in shirtsleeves without a tie, his cuffs hanging undone.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked his partner, reluctantly letting him go.

“Almost human,” Danny replied with a wry smile.

“Let me fix these for you,” McGarrett said, rolling his second-in-command’s shirt cuffs up neatly.

“Thanks,” Williams said.  “I gave up on those—getting the shirt buttons done was enough of a struggle.”

“You should have had Kono help you,” Steve gently suggested.

“I didn’t want to ask.  I’ve had enough humiliation to last me a while,” Danny said, looking down at the corner of Steve’s desk.

“I should have taken you home myself.”  The head of Five-O turned away, clenching his hands in frustration, suppressing a wince as he moved his damaged knuckles too abruptly.

“It’s okay, Steve, I know you couldn’t,” Danny assured him.  “Anyway, now that I’m here, what can I do?”

McGarrett turned back to his partner.  “Go give your statement to Chin.  Then I’ll have someone take you home.”

“I’d rather be here,” Williams protested.

“Danno, people may accuse me of being a slave driver from time to time, but even I don’t expect you to go back to work a few hours after escaping from being held hostage, to say nothing of your injuries,” McGarrett said with a smile.

“It’s just...I really don’t want to be alone with nothing to do right now.  I’d rather be here with you, and...and everyone.  It would feel good to be part of things again, not just a victim,” Danny said.

 _Damn it, I would give a month’s pay to be able to just leave all this and take him home right now,_ Steve thought.  _He should be in bed, but I don’t have the heart to send him home to his empty apartment after what he’s been through._

“Please, Steve?”  Danny looked up at McGarrett appealingly, something haunted in his blue eyes.

The head of Five-O sighed and said, “Okay, Danno.  If you’re sure you feel up to it.  But if your head starts bothering you or you want to get some rest, tell me immediately and I’ll have someone take you home.”

“Thanks, Steve,” his partner said with a relieved smile.  “What should I do after I give Chin my statement?”

“How did you get along with the other passengers on the plane?” McGarrett asked.

“That Brown character obviously didn’t care for me, but generally we were all in it together,” Danny told him.

“You could take over as liaison, then,” Steve said.  “Duke’s been fielding complaints so far, and some of them are giving him a hard time.  They want to go home, they’re not happy with their rooms, they think the airline should have prevented it...that sort of thing.  I figure they won’t be so likely to vent their anger on someone who was there with them.”

“Sure, Steve, no problem.”

“Duke’s in the conference room down the hall—get the phone numbers you need from him, and have the calls transferred to your office instead.  Thanks, Danno,” McGarrett said, giving Danny a pat on the shoulder and wishing desperately for a private minute with his partner.

The telephone on Steve’s desk rang, and he walked back around to answer it, throwing a last frustrated glance over his shoulder at his partner.  _No matter what resolutions I make, I can’t get away from the job._   He sighed and picked up the phone.

* * *

Danny sat in Chin’s cubicle at one end of his desk, looking over at the older detective, who was setting up a tape recorder.

Chin began, “Steve wanted me to take your statement because....”

“He’s got a hundred other things to do, I know,” Williams said.

“No, it’s not that,” Chin told him.  “The boss knows things got pretty rough on that plane.  He didn’t want you to hold anything back to spare his feelings.”

“Oh.  I suppose I might,” Danny said, a shadow passing over his face as he recalled where he had so recently been.

Chin pressed the buttons to start the recorder.  “Okay, take it from the beginning.”

Danny described the taking of the flight, the scuffle on landing, and he and the pilot’s failed plan to overpower the hijackers.  “Chin, do you know how Carlton is doing?” he asked.

Kelly shook his head.  “The hospital says he’s still in surgery.”

“It’s my fault he got shot,” Five-O’s second in command said grimly.

“Danny, If you hadn’t done something, they’d have killed a passenger, anyway,” Chin said gently.  “And you couldn’t look in all directions at once.  Now, what happened next?”

“Well...like I said, the hijackers had the radio hooked up to the cabin PA, so we were able to hear how the negotiations were doing.  You have no idea how glad I was to hear Steve’s voice on the radio,” Danny said with a flash of a smile.  “But after he offered to trade himself for the hostages, two of the hijackers had a discussion in Spanish.  They were talking fast, but I understood enough to know that if he came on board they were going to kill him ‘as a present’ for someone.  I couldn’t catch a name, but I think it was someone helping them, someone high up.”

Chin’s eyes widened slightly.  “They must have meant Wo Fat!  He’d love to get rid of Steve once and for all.”

“Wo Fat!  He was behind this?” Danny exclaimed.

“At least indirectly.”  Chin filled Danny in on what they knew about the hijackers’ plans.

Danny continued his story of waking up in even worse shape and hearing the hijackers threaten to mutilate him.  “When Garcia came at me with that knife—I was sure he was going to cut off my ear.  I....”  He looked away with an involuntary shudder.  “And then when I realized what he was going to do to Steve....”

Chin stopped the tape.  “It was bad.  We really thought he had done it.  I’ve never seen Steve so shaken up.  Danny...you know he got you off that plane as soon as he could.”

“I know.  There’s no way he could give in to the hijackers’ demands, and storming the plane would just have gotten the hostages killed,” Danny said.  “Chin...I know how much I owe all of you.”

“If anything happened to you, we’d have to get used to a new second-in-command.  Too much trouble,” Chin said, shaking his head.

“Sure,” Danny said with a half smile.  “That explains it.”

Chin restarted the tape.  “Go on.”

“The food was brought on board.  Diego had fun putting a bandage on me, so what with the blood on my face from the cut, it would look...look like they had....” Danny shuddered again, then took a deep breath and continued, “Anyway, after the women who brought the food left, the hijackers passed it out to the other passengers.  Mrs. Miller tried to give me some, but they stopped her.”

Chin stopped the tape again.  “Danny—didn’t they feed you at all?”

“No, they didn’t want to ‘waste food on a cop.’  I think they wanted to keep me as weak as possible,” Williams said.

“But did you eat since you got off the plane?” Chin demanded.

“Yeah, I found a banana at my place when Kono took me back,” Danny said.  “I couldn’t really manage much more with my hands like this.”  He looked down at his still-swollen fingers.

“Danny!  You should have said!  Wait here.” Chin hurried from the room.

* * *

McGarrett, standing behind his desk, looked up as Chin burst through his office door.  “Hold on a minute.”  He covered the telephone mouthpiece with his hand.  “What’s wrong, Chin?”

“Steve, the hijackers didn’t give Danny anything to eat that whole time!” the Chinese detective said indignantly.

“I’m sorry, Director, I’ll have to call you back in a few minutes,” Steve told the phone before hanging up.

“Damn it, he should have said something,” said Steve.  “I suppose he couldn’t fix anything at his place because of his hands.”  _Also, I don’t know how much food he keeps there, since he spends so much time at my condo,_ he thought guiltily.

“I’d have helped him!” said Kono, who had been waiting in the office for Steve to finish his phone call.

“It’s not easy to be helpless, even in front of one’s friends,” Steve replied, thinking back to the various times he’d found himself in Danny’s care.  _How he’s put up with me through all that, I’ll never know._ The head of Five-O snapped his fingers.  “What’s easy to eat?”

“Manapua!”  Kono suggested.

“Good idea, Kono.”  McGarrett picked up the phone.  “I might as well order for the whole office, everyone will be hungry.  Hello, Island Manapua Factory?”  He said into the receiver, then placed a large order.  “And be sure to put in some of that hot Chinese mustard.  Mahalo.”

“Danny’s favorite?”  Chin asked.

“Yeah.”  Steve reached for his jacket hanging on the coat tree behind him and extracted his wallet.  “Here, Chin, this should do it,” he said, handing his detective some bills.  “Make sure Danny gets his share.  And send someone out for some soda straws so he doesn’t have to pick up a cup.”

“Good thinking, Steve.  I’m sorry to interrupt your phone call,” Chin said.

“That was the Deputy Director of Government Intelligence!” Kono told him.

“Danny’s more important,” Steve said with a smile.

* * *

“Thanks, Chin, I really needed that,” Danny said, finishing the last potsticker from the plate sitting next to the tape recorder in Chin’s cubicle.  “And thanks for thinking of the straw.”

“That was Steve’s idea,” Chin told him.

“You didn’t bother Steve with this on top of everything else?” Danny said in dismay.

“He hung up on Washington and placed the order himself,” Chin said.  “He said you were more important.”

Danny couldn’t help but smile.  “Now, where were we?”

Chin played back the last few minutes of the tape, then pressed the record buttons.

Five-O’s second-in-command continued his description of the events of the hijacking, finishing with, “I knew Steve would come for me before the end, that he wouldn’t let the hijackers take me and the plane.  But I never expected he would be the pilot!”

“He wouldn’t leave it to anyone else,” Chin said, then looked at his watch.  “It’s time for the press conference.  Do you feel up to it?”

Danny sighed.  “Might as well get it over with....”

* * *

McGarrett, the governor, HPD chief Dann, and Carstairs of the FBI stood in a row behind microphones on the Iolani Palace steps.  Danny, Chin and Kono were ranged behind McGarrett, and various HPD officers were arrayed beside them.

After the governor announced that the hijacking had been resolved and thanked Five-O, HPD, the FBI and the armed forces for their efforts, the reporters clamored with generally sympathetic questions.

“Hey, can you have Williams step forward?  We want some pictures!” shouted one reporter.  McGarrett smiled and encouraged his partner forward.

“Wait, you should get all of Five-O,” Danny said, moving to stand beside Steve and waving Chin and Kono over to his other side as the shutters clicked.

* * *

The press conference over, the members of Five-O returned to their work.  Danny started dealing with complaints from the passengers, which mostly turned into conversations about their mutual experiences and expressions of concern for his health.  He was glad to note that dialing the phone with a pencil held in his fist, while still painful, was getting easier.

Taking a break, he walked over to the coffee urn in the outer office, wondering if he could manage to pour himself a cup without spilling hot liquid everywhere.

A tall, trimly-built man wearing a naval uniform came through the outer door.  He glanced over at Danny, then looked back more sharply.

“Dan Williams, I presume,”  He said, joining Danny beside the coffee urn.  “Paul Jones.”  He started to extend a hand, then glanced at Danny’s bandages and let it drop to his side.

“Paul Jones—that’s the name Steve used when he came on board the plane,” the Five-O detective observed.

“Yes, we figured it would be easier for him to borrow a real name, so there wouldn’t be so many things to forge,” the Navy man explained.  “I’m an old friend of Steve’s, stationed at Pearl Harbor now.  Steve calls me ‘Jonesey’.”

“He calls me ‘Danno’,” Danny responded, giving the other man a speculative look.

“In case you’re wondering, Steve and I weren’t...we were just friends,” Jones said.

Danny flushed.  “You know.”

“I’ve known Steve a very long time,” Jones observed, studying the younger man.  “He couldn’t hide what you mean to him, not from me.”  He glanced at the silver urn.  “Hey, do you mind if I help myself to some coffee?”

“Sure, sorry, I should have offered,” Williams said.

Jones poured two cups.  “How do you take it?”

“Black is fine.  Thanks.”  Danny acknowledged the other man’s tactful help with a smile, carefully taking the cardboard cup handed to him in both hands.

“It was always difficult for him,” the Navy man reminisced, taking a drink of coffee.  “Inevitably, living in such close quarters, some people found out, and, while there’s code of silence about such things, that didn’t stop some of them from giving him a hard time.”

“He told me what he owed his friends back then,” said Danny.  “And now I owe you even more.”

“I’m just glad I didn’t have to see those hijackers ruin his happiness,” Jones said bluntly.

Danny flushed again.

“Well, I’ll go see if Steve can spare me a couple of minutes,” the Navy man said, finishing his coffee and tossing his empty cup in the trash.  “It was good to finally meet you.”

* * *

“Hi, Jonesey,” Steve greeted his friend in a break between phone calls.  He opened his desk drawer.  “I’ve got your wallet and ring here.  Thank you,” he said, clasping the other man’s hand, his eyes saying more than his words.

“I’m glad I could do something to help,” his old friend said, perching on the corner of Steve’s desk as he returned the ring to his finger.  “We should get together for dinner sometime soon.”

“You’re right, it’s been too long,” Steve said.

“Bring Williams along,” Jones suggested.  “I just met him out there.  He seems like a good kid.”

McGarrett grimaced.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Steve,” his friend protested.  “What’s the age difference between you, seven or eight years?”

“Ten,” Steve admitted, turning to look out the window.

“Ten years is nothing.  If Danny were a girl, no one would think twice about it.”

McGarrett turned to give his friend a pained look.  “That’s not helping, Jonesey....”

“Besides, Steve, you never seem to get any older,” Jones said, running a hand over his own salt-and-pepper hair.

The head of Five-O gave him an innocent smile.

* * *

Steve rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch.  _7 PM._   _That explains the lull in phone calls.  The East Coast is in bed and everyone here is probably eating dinner.  Dinner—come to think of it, I don’t remember eating lunch.  I trust Chin made sure Danny ate, anyway._

 _Danny...._   He remembered the note Mrs. Miller had given him.  He took it out of his jacket pocket, unfolded it, and read _.  ‘...I never told you that I love you...’_   The words blurred before his eyes, and he blinked hard.

Just then, as though summoned by Steve’s thoughts, Five-O’s second-in-command came through the office door balancing a plate of sandwiches in the crook of one arm.  “Steve, Jenny ordered....” he stopped short.

McGarrett looked up from the page he held.

“I...”  Danny swallowed.  “I see you got my note.”  He set the plate down on the desk and straightened up, looking squarely at Steve with a vulnerable expression in his eyes.

Steve came around the desk and put his hands on Danny’s shoulders.  “I love you too, Danny Williams.”  He smiled down at his partner, a suspicion of moisture in his eyes, and Danny relaxed and returned the smile.

“I should have told you long ago,” Steve said softly, reaching to caress the uninjured side of his partner’s face.  “Danno....”

There was a knock at the door.

Steve abruptly released Danny and turned towards the door, which opened to admit Kono, carrying a folder.

“Yes?” McGarrett snapped, somewhat more brusquely than he had intended.

“The hospital called to say Carlton made it through the surgery,” the Hawaiian detective reported.

“That’s great!” Danny said.

“He’s not awake yet and they say his condition is still serious, but I thought you’d want to know.”  Kono advanced to hand McGarrett a folder.  “Here’s my report on the passenger statements, Boss.  A lot of nothing, mostly.”

“Hm,” Steve said, turning pages.

“The only things were that some people noticed Juan, the one we’ve got locked up, didn’t seem to speak Spanish as good as the others.  Also, everyone said the hijackers argued among themselves a lot,” Kono reported.

“Thanks, Kono.  If Chin doesn’t need you for anything else, go ahead and head out.  Good work today on that plane,” McGarrett said, clapping his detective on the shoulder.

“You want me to take Danny home, Boss?” Kono asked.  “It’s no trouble....”

“Danno?”  Steve turned inquiringly to his partner.

Danny shook his head.  “Thanks, Kono, but I’ll stick around here for a while.”

“Take care, bruddah,” Kono said earnestly.

Steve gave the closing door a look of frustration, then moved to put his desk between himself and his partner, seating himself on the edge.  Sighing, he said, “Well, we can take a break for dinner, anyway.”  _Not exactly the sort of dinner I imagined to celebrate having Danny back, but I suppose I should have known,_ he thought ruefully.  _At least we’re together...._

Danny perched on the other side of the desk and leaned over to select a sandwich.  “Mm, egg salad,” he said, taking a bite.

“How’s it going with the passengers?” McGarrett asked.

“I think they’re all settled.  Mostly they didn’t give me any trouble, just asked if I’m doing okay.  That was a good idea, Steve.”  Danny took another bite, then flexed the fingers of his free hand.  “I’m doing a lot better at holding things now.”

“Good, but take it easy,” Steve said, looking at his partner’s hand with concern.

Finishing his sandwich and reaching for another, Williams said, “I got a call from Duke.  You know Brown, the guy who hit me?  HPD arrested him at the airport trying to leave.  They charged him with assaulting a police officer, but the DA is thinking of letting him plead to a lesser charge.”

“They should throw the book at him,” McGarrett growled.  “If it weren’t for him, this might have been resolved two days ago with a lot less bloodshed.”

“People do stupid things when they’re scared,” Danny said.  “I suppose he....”

He was interrupted by the telephone.

“So much for our dinner break,” Steve said with a rueful smile, setting down the remains of his sandwich.

Danny flashed him the smile that always made Steve’s heart skip a beat, the effect slightly marred by his bruised and swollen face, and left the office.

* * *

A few hours later McGarrett walked into the outer office.  He felt that today had been going on forever, although beneath his weariness was his joy at Danny’s safety and a hunger to be alone with him at last to hold him in his arms and say everything he’d been saving up during the last three awful days.

The main room was dark and empty save for a litter coffee cups and paper plates.  The only light came from Chin Ho’s cubicle.

Steve stuck his head in.  “Chin, where’s Danny?”  _Was I so immersed in work that he left without saying goodnight?_

The Chinese detective looked up from the papers he was studying.  “He’s lying down in his office—he was dead on his feet, Steve.”

“I told him to tell me when he got too tired,” McGarrett snapped.  “You should have had someone drive him home!”

Chin stood to face his boss, protesting, “I offered to take him myself, but he wouldn’t go.  He insisted on waiting.  Stubborn, just like....”  He stopped himself.

“Like me?”  Steve asked, his glare softening into a rueful smile.  “I’m sorry, Chin.  Go home and get some rest.  And...thanks for everything, these past three days.”

Chin Ho neatly stacked the papers on his desk and reached for his jacket.  “You get some rest, too, Steve.  And look after Danny....”

“I will,” McGarrett said.  _Not that I’ve been doing a very good job of that so far...I should have made sure he got home hours ago, instead of leaving him to sleep on the floor,_ he berated himself.  _I could have put him in a taxi to my place if he didn’t want to go to his apartment, but I didn’t even think to check on him, and I suppose he didn’t want to interrupt me...always the job...._   He sighed.

“Goodnight, Steve,” Kelly called on his way out.

Steve went to Danny’s doorway and knocked softly before entering the darkened cubicle.

His second-in-command, who had been stretched out on the carpet with his head pillowed on his jacket, suddenly sat bolt upright, staring anxiously at the door.

“Easy, Danny, it’s me,” his partner told him, reaching to turn on the desk lamp.

“I’m sorry, for a second there, I forgot where I was,” Danny said, climbing painfully to his feet.

“Time to go home, Danno,” Steve said, his voice gentle.  They walked out to McGarrett’s car, Danny stumbling a bit with fatigue and Steve with an arm around his shoulders, ostensibly to steady him.

As they drove through the darkened streets, McGarrett asked, “My place?”

“Yeah.  Though I’m afraid I won’t be up to anything but sleeping,” Danny warned him.

“As long as you do it beside me, that’s all I could ask,” Steve said, smiling over at his partner.

A short time later, the two men stood in the hallway as McGarrett unlocked his front door.  _Only three days since I locked this door behind me.  It feels more like three weeks...._

As soon as the door closed, Danny moved into Steve’s arms, resting his head against the taller man’s shoulder.  Steve held him close, his cheek against his partner’s sandy curls.  They stood that way for a while in silence, trying to banish the demons of the past three days with the undeniable reality of physical contact.

 _There are so many things I want to say to him,_ McGarrett thought, fighting to master his emotions.  “Danno...” he began, then had to stop as his voice broke.  He tried again.  “My fault...my fault you were on that plane, and that we didn’t even say goodbye properly.  I took you for granted, and I’ve been so afraid I was going to lose you without ever seeing you again.  When I saw that box....”  He choked on the words, tightening his arms around his partner.

“Steve,” Danny said, looking up.  “It wasn’t your fault!  It was just chance I was on that plane, and if it weren’t for you, I....”  He shuddered.  “I knew you’d come to get me, but I was so afraid something would go wrong, and...and you’d be shot...and I’d never have the chance to tell you how I feel.  I love you so much, Steve.”

“I love you too, Danny.”

They stood holding each other tightly until Danny, smiling despite the emotion still in his voice, said, “I’d like to propose an addition to our rules.  If we’re going to be separated overnight, we arrange to have a goodbye kiss, no matter what.”

 “That...that seems like a good rule to me.”  McGarrett said, managing a crooked smile.  “Now, I think it’s time we go to bed.”

Both exhausted, they fell asleep at once, Danny wrapped in Steve’s arms.

* * *

McGarrett awakened some hours later.  The room was in darkness, but for a faint wash of moonlight, and he was alone in the bed.  For an awful moment he thought he had dreamed yesterday, that Danny was still on the plane, the hijacking still going on.  Then he saw that his partner was standing silhouetted against the glass lanai doors, looking out between the curtains.

Steve got quietly out of bed and went to join him.  He touched the younger man softly on the shoulder.  “Couldn’t sleep?”

Danny started, then turned to look at his partner.  “Steve...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.  It was just a nightmare.”

In the shaft of moonlight coming through the narrow gap between the drapes, Steve saw that Danny’s cheeks were wet.  He put a reassuring arm around his partner.  “About being on the plane?”

“Yeah.  When he came at me with the knife I was so frightened,” the younger man admitted.  “I tried not to be, but I couldn’t help it.”

“You were helpless in the hands of a sadist.  I was terrified, too,” McGarrett said.

“In the dream...he didn’t cut...my hair.”  Danny couldn’t repress a shudder.

Steve held him close.  “Danny, you’re safe now.”

Danny looked up at his partner, the light falling across the undamaged side of his face.  “Steve...if he had cut off my ear, could you still stand to look at me?”

Steve found he couldn’t look away from that direct blue-eyed gaze.  He met his partner’s eyes and answered him seriously.  “Yes.  It would be painful to see, being reminded that I couldn’t stop him from hurting you, but...I thought about it, after...I realized that if I could just have you back alive, talk to you, hold you...anything else wasn’t important.”  McGarrett blinked hard, and turned his face away from the shaft of light.

“Steve.  Thank you.”

Steve felt Danny’s fingers brush his cheek, the white cuff of bandage gleaming in the moonlight as the too-long sleeve of the borrowed pyjama top fell back.  “Come on, Danno,” he said, and had to clear his throat.  “Let’s go back to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Danny and Steve actually get a break? I guess we'll see.... ;-)


	5. Worse Than Wo Fat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended to be the second-to-last chapter, but I decided that 10,000 words of probably excessively convoluted plot was a bit much to ask anyone to make it through at one sitting. (I'm afraid brevity has never been one of my strong suits.) I re-arranged the chapter breaks, so there will now be two more chapters after this one. I'll try to get them posted in a timely fashion, and my thanks to everyone who has stuck with me this far!

When Steve McGarrett woke again, the room was bathed in early morning sunlight.  He reached over and turned off the shrilling alarm as Danny abruptly sat up beside him, looking apprehensive.

“Easy, Danno, you’re home now,” McGarrett said, placing a steadying hand on his partner’s pyjama-clad shoulder, seeing the tension leave the younger man’s face as he realized where he was.  “How are you feeling?”

“Extremely happy to be here,” Danny replied with the smile Steve had been missing.  He stretched experimentally.  “Otherwise, pretty much sore all over.”

“What about your hands?” McGarrett asked.

Danny flexed his fingers, wincing slightly.  “Doing better.  My wrists still aren’t great.”  He looked up at Steve.  “I know you haven’t exactly had time to be grocery shopping the last few days, but....”

“Don’t worry about that, there’s plenty of food in the house,” Steve said, giving his partner a quick kiss then climbing out of bed.  “Go back to sleep and I’ll make you breakfast.”

“I’d rather come watch you cook,” Danny said, easing his way painfully out from under the sheets.

McGarrett found himself smiling.  _I’d rather not let Danny out of my sight for a while,_ he admitted to himself.

In the kitchen, as Steve searched the refrigerator for ingredients, Danny crossed to the window.  “Your African violet is wilted,” he said, carefully lifting the pot down to water it in the sink.

Steve, closing the refrigerator door, said, “Obviously it can’t live without you, Danno,” trying to sound light.  “I’m glad neither of us had to try,” he added softly, looking down at the eggs and cheese as he set them on the counter.

“Steve....” Danny said, turning from the sink.

“I think there’s some bacon,” McGarrett said hastily, diving into the refrigerator again.  “How about omelets?”

“Anything sounds good, as long as there’s lots of it,” his partner assured him.  “I don’t think I’m quite caught up on meals yet.”

Danny sat at the kitchen table watching as Steve made coffee, fried bacon, and flipped omelets, then the two men sat down to breakfast together.

McGarrett covertly surveyed his partner as the younger man wolfed down omelet and toast.  _Just being able to sit here with him, sharing a meal...something precious that I shouldn’t take for granted again,_ he thought. __

“That was delicious,” Danny commented, polishing off the last piece of toast.  “Steve, can you give me a hand in the shower?  I’m not supposed to get these bandages wet.”

 _Oh, I can give you more than a_ hand _...no, no, Danny may put a brave face on things, but he’s still badly injured,_ Steve told himself firmly _._   “Of course,” he said aloud.  _I’ll have to go in to work today to deal with the leftover issues from the hijacking, but Danny can rest, and then tomorrow, when hopefully he’s feeling better, with any luck we can take the day off together...._

As Danny took off his pyjamas in the bathroom, Steve saw his bruises in the light for the first time.  Some of the marks on his body were clearly recognizable as left by shoes, and McGarrett was filled with renewed fury towards the men who had done this to his partner.

Examining his curly hair in the mirror over the sink, Danny observed unhappily, “I guess the missing bit is pretty obvious, isn’t it?  I’ll have to get it cut today—I don’t want to have to think about what happened every time I look in a mirror.”  A shadow passed over his face.

 _I wish I could have beaten the lot of them,_ McGarrett thought savagely, but forced himself to speak lightly.  “In the meantime, it might as well be clean.”  Taking off his own pyjamas, he surveyed the shower.  “I think the easiest way would be for you to sit in the tub and lean back.”

Danny suited his actions to Steve’s words, then McGarrett, kneeling beside the tub, lathered his partner’s hair and carefully rinsed it with the shower handle, shielding the bandage on Danny’s forehead with his hand.

“I’m sorry, I know this is a pain,” Danny said, trying not to move.

“Danno, I read your statement.  You got this bandage from saving my life,” Steve said, bending to press his lips very gently to his partner’s temple.

“I keep telling you not to walk unarmed into hostage situations,” the younger man said teasingly.

“So you do,” Steve responded softly, dropping another kiss on Danny’s shoulder.  “I think this is the best I can do with your hair.  Now, let’s see...if you stand up and prop your hands against the end wall of the shower....”

“I feel like I’m going to be patted down,” Danny commented, arranging himself as instructed.

Steve stepped into the shower behind him, biting back a lewd comment.  Even with the bruises reminding him that his partner was injured, seeing Danny standing in front of him in this position was turning him on.  _Control yourself, Steve,_ he thought.

He replaced the shower attachment in its bracket, directing the water over himself and Danny, and quickly shampooed his own hair.  Once again taking the wand into his hand, he directed the spray over Danny’s upraised arms, carefully stopping short of the white cuffs of bandage, then down over his muscular shoulders and back.  Swapping the shower for the soap, he used both his hands to smooth lather over Danny’s skin, moving down to his buttocks, thighs, and calves.  _This would be a perfect position for...stop that!_ he sternly interrupted his train of thought.

He circled Danny’s legs with his hands, feeling the springy blonde hair under his fingers, ran his hands up his partner’s thighs, then, with an effort of will, stopped and stood up.  He moved closer and reached his arms around Danny’s body to lather his chest.  Despite the heat of the shower, his nipples were hard under Steve’s palms.  Steve closed his eyes and moved his hips back from Danny a bit to conceal the fact that he was completely erect.  As he slid his hands down over his partner’s taut abdomen, Danny made a low noise.  “Am I hurting you?” Steve asked anxiously.

“No...yes...Steve, please....”  Danny moved his hips back until he came into contact with Steve.

Steve groaned, pushed beyond endurance, and ran his hands down Danny’s stomach, at which point they encountered the younger man’s cock, standing stiffly at attention.  “Danny...are you sure?”

“ _Ah_...yes....” Danny gasped, his breath coming fast.  He half turned towards his partner.

“Stand still and keep your bandages dry.  I’ll take care of everything,” McGarrett reassured him.  He moved to stand pressed full-length against Danny’s back.  His right hand, slippery with soap, stroked up and down his partner’s shaft, while with his left he held their bodies together, sliding his cock up and down against Danny’s firm ass.  He leaned forward to trace around his partner’s right ear with his tongue, eliciting a moan.

“Steve....”  Danny moved against him, keeping his hands on the wall only with an effort.

Steve reached around with his left hand to cradle Danny’s balls, moving his right hand faster on Danny’s cock.

Danny made a wordless sound, bucking his hips against Steve’s.

“ _Danny_....” Steve gasped.

The telephone rang.

It took a moment for the sound to penetrate McGarrett’s consciousness, but his years as head of Five-O had left him all-too-attuned to the sound.  He cursed under his breath, then stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist.  “Wait for me,” he told his partner, stalking into the bedroom to answer the telephone.

 _“McGarrett!”_ he more or less shouted into the receiver.

“Steve...is everything all right?” asked the Governor, sounding startled.

“Fine!” Steve snapped, then made an effort to get himself under control.  “I’m sorry, Governor, I was in the shower,” he managed in an almost normal voice.

“My apologies, Steve, but we have a serious situation here.  I need you and Dan Williams in my office as soon as you can get here.”

“What serious situation?” McGarrett demanded.

“I’m afraid the hijacker who called himself ‘Diego Volver’ turned out to be Generalissimo Santiago’s son,” Jameson began.

“Uh huh, we suspected that,” Steve said, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes with his free hand.

“Well,” the Governor continued, “He was the rallying point for the main group of anti-government rebels.  So, Generalissimo Santiago has apparently decided to try to win the people’s favor by embracing the memory of his son as a martyr.”

“A _martyr?_   He hijacked an airplane!  He killed an innocent man!” The head of Five-O protested incredulously.

“Yes, but, as you know, the U.S. Government nominally supports the Santiago regime.  Santiago is demanding the head of the man who killed his son on a platter.  And that’s you, Steve.”

“I don’t care if he was the son of the President of the United States!  If he hijacks an airplane on my turf and won’t negotiate a peaceful surrender, I have every right to use force to protect innocent lives!” McGarrett said emphatically, pacing back and forth beside the bed at the end of the short phone cord.

“I agree with you,” the Governor said.  “But the State Department is having kittens, I have a colonel from Military Intelligence breathing down my neck, and the Deputy Director of Government Intelligence is threatening to fly in and personally oversee the investigation into the hijacking.  In the meantime, Simons, Harkness, and Carstairs are demanding to meet with you and Williams now or sooner on behalf of their respective agencies.”

“Is this going to be a meeting, or an ambush?  I won’t stand by and let Five-O be made a scapegoat so the State Department can curry favor with the leader of some third-rate military dictatorship!”  McGarrett shouted into the phone.

“Steve, I’m on your side,” Jameson said tiredly.  “We’ll just have to come up with a better solution.”

“Danny and I will be there in half an hour.  Aloha, Governor.”  McGarrett replaced the receiver with a precise click and turned to his partner, who, hearing Steve’s raised voice, had come into the bedroom wearing a towel.

“Beautiful,” Steve snapped, shaking his head.

“What’s going on?” Danny asked, looking concerned.

“The hijackers were led by Santiago’s rebel son, and the father wants to touch up his image with the people, so the State Department is going to throw us to the wolves.  Not while I’m still head of Five-O,” McGarrett said grimly.  “I’m sorry, the governor wants us in his office as soon as we can get there.”  He pulled his good navy blue suit out of the closet, tossed it on the bed, and started getting dressed.

“Good thing I have a clean suit here,” Danny observed, opening a dresser drawer and carefully extracting a shirt from its place tucked under one of Steve’s.

McGarrett opened the top drawer of the dresser and took out his silver cufflinks, glancing down at the small box where he had put Danny’s note and the handkerchief wrapped around the lock of his partner’s hair.  _I couldn’t protect him from the hijackers, but if those weasels think I’m going to let them touch him now as part of a cover-up...._ he thought savagely.

 Danny came up behind him, asking, “Can you get my cuff buttons?  I’m having trouble doing them over the bandages.”

“No, leave them like this,” McGarrett said, neatly turning up Danny’s cuffs to expose the bandages.  “I want them all to see what their precious hijacker did to you.”

As they were about to go out the door, Steve paused, took Danny by the shoulders and kissed him.  “Tonight, Danno....”

“Tonight,” Danny said with a smile.

* * *

The governor’s receptionist pressed a button and announced, “Mr. McGarrett and Mr. Williams are here, Governor.”

“Send them in,” came the answer.

McGarrett squared his shoulders and strode into the office, Danny following him.

“Steve,” the governor greeted him, rising.  “You and Mr. Simons, Mr. Carstairs, and Mr. Harkness have met, of course.  This is Colonel Oliver Grant from Military Intelligence,” he said, gesturing towards a dark-haired man with a foxy face.

As Steve inspected the newcomer, Jameson continued, “Gentlemen, this is Detective Dan Williams, who, as you know, saw the hijacking at first-hand.”

“Perhaps he should wait in the outer office until we need him,” Simons suggested.  He seemed uncomfortable in the face of Danny’s direct gaze.

“This concerns him, too,” McGarrett snapped.

“Oh, very well,” Simons said ungraciously.

McGarrett surveyed the room.  The Governor sat behind his desk, looking distinctly unhappy.  Ranged in chairs around it were Simons from the State Department, wearing his usual wrinkled gray suit and glasses with heavy dark rims, Carstairs of the FBI, smiling blandly, Harkness, looking more like a scholar than a spy, then the unknown quantity Grant.  He wasn’t in uniform, but instead wore a very sharply tailored navy blue pinstripe suit.

“It seems to me,” said Grant, as the members of Five-O took their seats at one end of the semicircle, McGarrett placing the folded morning paper he’d picked up on their way in on the desk in front of him, “that the main issue is to make a proper press release as soon as possible.  Then any investigation can be dragged out and eventually forgotten.”

“And what would you consider to be a ‘proper’ press release?” McGarrett asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We need to say that we regret the way things turned out, that mistakes were made—due to excessive zeal, no doubt,” Simons contributed.

“No doubt,” McGarrett said drily.

“Look, McGarrett, I know you don’t like it, but we have to look at the bigger picture,” Grant said earnestly.  “It’s very important for our interests in the region that we maintain friendly relations with Santiago.  If he can be seen to successfully demand concessions from us on behalf of his son, it will help him keep his hold on power, and make him indebted to us.  Surely you understand that.”

“What I understand is that you intend to throw Five-O to the wolves for your convenience,” Steve snapped.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure that there are no real consequences for you or Williams,” said Simons.  “A public apology from you both, an investigation that doesn’t go anywhere, no more.”

“I suppose I’m supposed to apologize for preventing the hijackers from killing Detective Williams and escaping.  Just what is Danny supposed to be apologizing for?” McGarrett asked in a dangerously calm voice.

“Misplaced heroics,” Simons said, looking evasive.  “If he hadn’t tried to overpower the hijackers, Carlton wouldn’t have been shot and Williams wouldn’t have been...injured.”

“It’s possible,” McGarrett said, getting to his feet and pacing in front of the arrayed agents, who followed his progress, “And maybe _then_ the hijackers would have picked one of the civilian passengers to make an example of, taken off with Carlton as their pilot, and killed them all when they got to that atoll.  There were Red Chinese agents secretly involved.  They didn’t want any witnesses.  As cops, we have an obligation to protect civilians, and the best way to do that is to take a chance when we see one!”

“After they picked up the troops and pilot from Wo Fat’s ship they would have left the hostages.  What use would they have been at that point?” Grant protested.

“Yes,” said Simons.  “Most likely everything would have been fine if Williams hadn’t interfered.  Really, it’s his own fault he got hurt.”

“What I’m sure Mr. Simons meant to say,” Carstairs interposed, as Steve and Danny, who had jumped to his feet, both stood looking angrily at Simons, “is that Mr. Williams is a very brave and resourceful young man.  Unfortunately, due to his zeal, the hijackers understandably had to restrain him.”

“They beat him, kicked him, knocked him unconscious, starved him for three days, tied his hands with wire so tightly that he’ll have permanent scars, and threatened to cut off his ear!”  McGarrett shouted, slamming his fist on the desk.

“Gentlemen, I believe we’re getting away from the point,” Grant said, picking up a sheaf of papers sitting in front of him on the desk.  “Mr. McGarrett, here is a draft of the press release.  We have also taken the liberty of drafting apologies for yourself and Williams, but naturally you may want to put them into your own words.”  He passed the papers across the desk towards McGarrett.

“Wait, we agreed....” the Governor said, making an ineffectual grab to intercept the documents before they reached the head of Five-O.

Steve perched on the edge of the Governor’s desk to read, Danny looking over his shoulder.  The Governor pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and closed his eyes.

McGarrett read aloud, “ ‘We regret that, due to the remote nature of the State of Hawaii, we were unable to provide sufficient oversight to local authorities inexperienced in handling situations such as this in time to avert a tragedy.  We promise that a full investigation will be launched into the mistakes that were made.  Those involved have been suspended from duty pending the outcome of the investigation.’  I see,” he said, raising his eyebrows, then continued,  “ ‘We ask for your understanding that this situation was the result of error by certain members of the state police, well-meaning but inexperienced, and not any policy of the United States Government.’ ”

Steve turned the page.  “Let’s see the apologies...‘I, Steve McGarrett, head of Five-O,’...not any more, apparently I’ve been suspended...‘would like to express my deepest regrets to the family of Ramón Santiago.  I have come to realize that my use of force against Mr. Santiago and his colleagues’... _colleagues,_ very nice...‘was unwarranted and premature.  I apologize that my rash actions forestalled the negotiation of a peaceful solution by officials of the United States Government.’ ”

“Now what about Dan’s.....”  He flipped another page, reading, “ ‘I’m Detective Dan Williams of Hawaii Five-O.’  You may recognize me from my front-page picture in this morning’s newspaper under the headline ‘Heroes of Five-O Foil Hijacking,’ ” McGarrett added, glancing meaningfully at the newspaper resting on the desk.

He continued, “ ‘I would like to apologize for my part in the tragedy that took place yesterday.  By my misguided attempt at heroics’...your phrase, Mr. Simons?...‘I created a state of tension that made negotiations with Mr. Santiago more difficult.’  Beautiful, just beautiful,” the head of Five-O said, looking up from the documents to survey the assembled agents.  “A real piece of work.  You know, I thought Wo Fat was my worst enemy on this case, but he’s an amateur compared to all of you.”

Danny resumed his seat, glaring at Grant.

McGarrett tossed the papers on the desk and stood.  “Neither Detective Williams nor I will make any apology.  Furthermore, if you send out this press release, I will call my own press conference, with Danny in his bandages and some grateful passengers, and I will tell the good people of the world exactly what kind of people are working for their government,” he said forcefully.

“I wouldn’t, Mr. McGarrett,” said Grant sharply.  “We can take steps against anyone who threatens the interests of the U.S. government.  The suspension and investigation could just go away, or it could find evidence of...misconduct.”

“Is that a threat, Colonel Grant?” McGarrett asked, raising his eyebrows.  “Better men than you have tried to make that sort of thing stick, and none of them have succeeded yet.  Furthermore, if I went along with your plan it would so compromise my credibility and that of Five-O that I would have no other choice but to resign!”

Simons cleared his throat and spoke,  “Before you came in we had discussed that we have certain...financial resources available to make things easier for you.  Should you, for example, feel the need to resign from your job.”

“First a threat, and now a bribe?  Governor, these gentlemen seem to be misinformed about my character,” Steve said, turning to Jameson with his eyebrows raised.

“I told them, Steve, but they wouldn’t listen,” the Governor said tiredly.

“Well, gentlemen, what is it to be?  Shall I call my press conference?” McGarrett asked, surveying the semi-circle of agents.

“You’re bluffing,” said Grant dismissively.

“He isn’t,” assured the Governor.  “He’s the most stubborn man I know.”

Grant, sitting beside Danny, suddenly shot his hand out and seized the detective’s left wrist, twisting and squeezing it tightly.

“Ah!”  Danny, caught completely by surprise, gave a gasp of pain.

In an instant, McGarrett cleared the corner of the desk and hauled Grant out of his chair by the collar.  Harkness and Carstairs jumped up to pull Steve away, while the Governor attempted to drag Grant out of his grip, mainly succeeding in strangling the intelligence agent.

Danny stood and laid his right hand on Steve’s outstretched arm, saying, “Take it easy, Steve.  He’s not worth it.”

McGarrett blinked, then tossed Grant back into his chair, where he sat adjusting his collar and gasping.

The Governor, looking distressed, demanded, “Colonel Grant, why on earth did you do that?”

Grant coughed.  “I...I figured McGarrett might have given Williams those bandages for show, so I thought I’d find out whether he was really injured.”

“Well, I guess you found out,” said Danny angrily.

“Danno, you’re bleeding,” Steve said, looking at the red spots on the white cuff of bandage in concern.  “Governor, do you have a first aid kit around here somewhere?”

“Of course.”  Jameson crossed to a cabinet against one wall, returning with a small metal box adored with a red cross.

McGarrett cut off the old bandage, then gave Danny an apologetic “this is going to hurt” look before cleaning the reopened wound with disinfectant.  Danny bore the cleaning without a sound, watching as the head of Five-O re-wrapped his wrist in gauze and neatly taped a new bandage over it.

McGarrett surveyed the other occupants of the room.  Simons was looking squeamishly away.  The Governor looked sick.  “My God, what did they do?” he asked.

“Very nasty,” agreed Carstairs.

Grant looked rattled, but rallied to declare self-righteously, “Gentlemen, we are no nearer to finding an acceptable solution!”

“I’m through with your solutions,” McGarrett snapped.  “If I don’t hear anything sensible from you by two o’clock this afternoon, my press conference will be at three.”  He stood to leave.

“Hang on a minute, Steve,” the Governor said.  “If you and Dan would wait in the outer office for a little while, perhaps we can come to a compromise.”

“Very well,” Steve said, collecting his newspaper and striding out of the office, followed by his partner.

* * *

McGarrett stood looking out one of the tall windows in the Governor’s outer office with his Danny beside him.

“Do you think they’ll compromise?” asked Williams.

“I don’t know.  There’s something bothering me about all this,” answered McGarrett.  “Simons has a personal grudge against me—I pushed him pretty hard during the hijacking.  Carstairs is an opportunist—he’ll go whichever way he thinks the wind is blowing.  Harkness is just here to watch until his boss turns up.  But I suspect all this is Grant’s idea.  He seemed genuinely to believe that he could roll over me with that press release, where the others would have known better.  The question is, _why_ is he so eager to scapegoat Five-O and brush the hijacking investigation under the rug?”

“Well, it could be like he said, that the U.S. Government wants to curry favor with Santiago,” his partner suggested.

“I don’t buy it, Danno.  Not to that extent,” Steve said, pacing in front of the windows.  “I’ve got it!”  He snapped his fingers.  “That’s what’s been bothering me!  What is it Grant said?  ‘After they picked up the troops and pilot from Wo Fat’s ship they would have left the hostages?’  I thought they might be meeting the ship for that sort of reason, but since we had no evidence I didn’t put it in my report or discuss it with either Simons or Carstairs—it was just an idea I had.”

“You think Grant knew the plan?  That he was part of it?” Danny asked skeptically.

“I think that if Grant’s scheme to blame Five-O worked, the main result would be that there would be no investigation into the Chinese connection, and further, that the reason Wo Fat called to tell me he was backing out is that he didn’t want the hijackers calling attention to that connection by flying to a recently-vacated atoll,” McGarrett declared.  “Danno, wait here while I run over to the office and make a phone call.”

“Wait—what do I tell them if they come out?” his partner asked.

“Tell them an emergency came up, and I’ll be back as soon as I can,” McGarrett said, striding quickly out the door.

* * *

McGarrett burst into the Five-O office.  “Chin, Kono, I want you to make sure that the three surviving hijackers have HPD guards at all times.  Don’t leave them alone with anyone, even from other agencies!”

“We’re on it, Steve!” Chin called to McGarrett’s retreating back, as the head of Five-O hurried to the telephone in his office to put in a call to an old friend.

“Steve, it’s good to hear from you,” came the familiar voice.

“I need a favor,” McGarrett said.

“We owe you half a dozen.”

Steve perched on the edge of his desk.  “I’m looking for anything you have on a Colonel Oliver Grant, Military Intelligence.  Does he have any sort of Communist link?  Anything questionable in the background check that was done when he was hired?  I need to know as soon as possible.”

“Isn’t that always how it is?  I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.  Call me at Five-O headquarters if you come up with anything.”  Hanging up the phone, Steve said into the intercom, “Jenny, if a call comes in for me from Washington, transfer it to me at the Governor’s office.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” she replied.

* * *

Back in the Governor’s outer office, McGarrett asked Danny, “Anything going on?”

“Not a word,” the younger man answered,  “Who did you call?”

“Someone in Washington who owes me a favor.”

“Asking about Grant?  He’ll be joining Simons on the list of people with a personal grudge,” Danny said with a smile.

The sound of raised voices could be heard coming from the Governor’s office.

“I take it they haven’t come to a compromise yet,” McGarrett said drily.

The two men waited, standing side by side looking out one of the tall windows.

“You’re never afraid, are you, Steve?” Danny asked.  “I know how much being head of Five-O and your reputation mean to you, but you always risk them without a second thought to do what’s right.”

“It’s not that I’m not afraid of losing those things,” Steve said thoughtfully.  “It’s just that I’m more afraid of losing my self-respect if I don’t stand my ground.  And, of course, there’s my ridiculous pride and huge ego—I’m sure you’ve heard people mention them.”  Steve gave Danny a crooked smile.

“Generally people trying to stand in your way,” Danny said, smiling in return.  “I...really admire you, you know,” he said, looking down.

“Danny...that means a lot to me,” Steve said, touched.  He sighed and looked at his watch.  _I can’t believe it was only three hours ago we were together in the shower...._

“Tonight,” Danny said, apparently reading his mind.

“Tonight,” Steve agreed with a smile.


	6. Never a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long gap between chapters again--somehow things inevitably seem to get in the way. Thank you to all who have stuck with this story, and, as always, feedback is appreciated!

While Governor Jameson and the various agency representatives discussed the proposed press release regarding the handling of the hijacking, Five-O’s head and second-in-command waited in the Governor’s outer office, Danny seated in one of the blue-upholstered chairs, Steve standing by the window.

“How long can they argue in there?” Danny asked, idly picking up the newspaper McGarrett had bought that morning.  “You certainly called it about the picture of us on the airplane stairs making the front page.”  He abruptly sat up.  “Oh, no, they interviewed Mrs. Miller!”

“What’s wrong with that?” McGarrett asked, coming over to read over Danny’s shoulder.  “Hmm, she thinks you were a hero and that the note you wrote ‘your girlfriend’ was an extremely romantic gesture.  I have to agree with her on both counts.  They even got your good side on that picture from the press conference,” he pointed out.

“Steve, it’s embarrassing!” Danny protested.  “I don’t need the entire island reading about my....”

He was interrupted by the ringing of the receptionist’s phone.  “Mr. McGarrett,” she called, “It’s Jenny at Five-O.  She’s transferring a call for you here.”

 “Thanks, love,” McGarrett said, reaching across the desk to take the receiver.

“Steve, Chin Ho here,” came the detective’s familiar voice.

“Chin—has something come up?”

“Two things, Steve.  First, LAPD came back with IDs on our four hijackers from the photos and fingerprints we sent over.”

“Good, good.  Who are they?”  McGarrett asked.

 “Three of them are citizens of Curaguay who were in California on student visas.  The fourth guy, the one going by ‘Juan’—he’s an American.  They say the four of them were friends at the University.”  He gave McGarrett the names.

“Great,” Steve said.  “Can you find out for me if Oliver Grant of Military Intelligence has interviewed our prisoners?”

“I can tell you that right now.  He talked to the one who isn’t in the hospital, the American.  And, Steve, I asked because of what you said this morning...Grant demanded to talk to the man alone, and the officers guarding him didn’t see any harm in it.”

“Thanks, Chin,” McGarrett said.  “What was the other thing you wanted to tell me?”

“It’s good news!  The pilot Carlton regained consciousness.  I sent Kono over to interview him.”

“Good, good.  Call me if anything interesting turns up,” McGarrett said, hanging up the phone.  Turning to his partner he said, “That’s one thing, anyway.  Carlton’s awake.”

“That’s great!” Danny exclaimed.  “I’d like to go visit him when we’re done here, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Danno.  If I’m tied up here I’ll have someone drive you,” Steve said.  He returned to pacing.  “We’re missing just one more piece of the puzzle—what’s Grant’s connection to the hijackers’ plan?”

“Hopefully your friend in Washington will come through,” Danny said, picking up the newspaper again.

Twenty minutes later, the phone rang again.  “Mr. McGarrett, it’s for you,” the receptionist said.

“McGarrett,” the head of Five-O snapped into the receiver.

“Steve, I have something for you,” said the familiar voice.  “It’s not quite what you were looking for, but I think you’ll like it.”

“Give it to me,” McGarrett said.

“Grant doesn’t have any Communist ties I can find, but I assume you’re working on the hijacking?  He has a connection to the hijackers’ country.”

“What’s the connection?”  Steve asked, exchanging a hopeful look with Danny, who had come to stand by the desk.

“His wife was from Curaguay.  She died five years ago, but they had a son together.  Apparently the relationship was rocky.  He and the wife were separated, but he took the son in after she died.”

“That’s very interesting,” Steve said.  “What was the wife’s name?”

“Mercedes Lopez y Cruz.  The son apparently refused to take his father’s name, so he’s Gary Lopez.”

McGarrett snapped his fingers.  “Thanks, that’s exactly what I needed.”

“Glad to be of service.  We still owe you,” said the voice.

* * *

McGarrett knocked briefly on the Governor’s door before entering, Danny in his wake.

“Steve, I’m sorry, we haven’t come to a solution yet.”  The Governor looked harassed.

“I think I can help with that,” McGarrett said.

“I’ll try anything at this point,” Jameson declared.

The head of Five-O perched on the edge of the Governor’s desk and addressed Grant.  “Colonel Grant, I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Ask _me_ questions?” the Colonel demanded indignantly.

“Really, McGarrett, this is going too far,” Simons protested.

Steve continued, “You don’t have to answer, of course, but you might prefer me to a general court martial.”

“A court martial!  What is this nonsense?” Grant spluttered.  “If you think you can throw up a smokescreen to distract us from your own misconduct, it won’t work.”

“My own misconduct.”  Steve smiled wryly.  “Mr. Grant, did you conduct an interview with the hijacker who used the alias ‘Juan Volver’?”

“Yes, of course.  It was my duty to investigate the situation!” the Intelligence officer declared.

McGarrett continued, “Did you ask that the HPD officers guarding the prisoner wait outside, and that no record be made of the interview?”

“I wanted to put the man at his ease.  I was in no danger from him,” Grant explained.

“What was the result of your interview?” Steve asked.

“What do you mean?”  Grant looked puzzled.

“Well, did he tell you anything about the hijackers’ plans?”

“No, he refused to talk.”

“He told you _nothing_ of value?” McGarrett asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No, but you can hardly expect revolutionaries to be willing to betray their cause!” Grant said.

Steve stood and circled behind Grant’s chair.  “Earlier this morning in this room you said, ‘After they picked up the troops and pilot from Wo Fat’s ship they would have left the hostages.’  On what did you base that statement?”

“My experience in dealing with this sort of situation,” Grant said, trying to turn to look over his shoulder.  “What use would the passengers have been to the hijackers then?  Even the pilot would have been unnecessary.”

“But if the man we have in custody didn’t tell you, _how did you know they were planning to pick up troops and a pilot?”_ McGarrett moved to stand in front of Grant’s chair, looming over the embattled agent.  “None of the witnesses reported the hijackers on the plane saying anything about it.”

“I...I didn’t _know_ , I just...assumed that would be the case.  I mean...wouldn’t that be a logical plan?” Grant protested.

“No.  No, you _knew_.  Tell me, Colonel Grant, had you ever seen the hijacker ‘Juan’ before yesterday?”

“No, of course not,” Grant said.

The Governor interrupted.  “Where are you going with this, Steve?”

“I’ll get there soon,” McGarrett assured him, resuming his perch on the edge of the desk and continuing his line of questioning.  “Colonel Grant, your late wife—I believe she was from Curaguay?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything!” Grant protested.

“Her name, before she married you, was Mercedes Lopez y Cruz, wasn’t it?” Steve asked.

“Leave my wife out of this!” Grant shouted.

“Was that her name?”  McGarrett asked mildly.

“Yes!  That was her name!”

“Would you be surprised to learn that the hijacker ‘Juan’s’ real name was Gary Lopez, an American citizen?” the head of Five-O continued.

“What of it?  Lopez is a common name!”  Grant had gone pale.

“Perhaps.  But according to my source, that name ‘Gary Lopez’ just _happens_ to be the name of your son.”  Steve was on his feet again, standing over Grant.  “So, Colonel, how was it?  Did you conspire with Wo Fat to hijack that airplane?”

  1. Danny was glaring at him.



“You knew their plan.  It would be very convenient for Wo Fat to have someone on the inside,” McGarrett suggested.

“No!  I have nothing to do with Wo Fat!” Grant said, looking up at McGarrett.  “I knew my son had gotten involved with some revolutionaries from my wife’s country.  I didn’t approve, but she had poisoned him against me and he wouldn’t listen.  When I heard the news of the hijacking I recognized the sketch of the lead hijacker as one of my son’s friends, who he’d brought home over Christmas last year.  I couldn’t reach my son, and I was terrified that he had done something terrible.  I...I guess I was right.”  He looked down at his clasped hands.  “When I saw his picture in the paper I knew I had to do something to help him.  If he’d grown up with a father, in a proper home...anyway, when the report came in that Santiago wanted the hijackers cast as tragic victims, I knew I had my chance.  I convinced Simons, Carstairs, and Harkness to talk to their agencies and recommend that as the party line.”  He gave a short laugh.  “I have to say, it wasn’t hard.  You didn’t exactly make any friends there.”

“So you decided to sacrifice me, Williams, Five-O, and justice for your son?” McGarrett demanded angrily.

“It would all have worked, if it weren’t for you!” Grant exclaimed.  “I would have done my best to see that you didn’t suffer any permanent harm!”

“And what about justice?” McGarrett snapped.

“Mr. McGarrett, do you have any children?” Grant asked.

“No,” Steve said flatly.

“If you did, you’d understand.  I’d have done anything for my son, _anything._   He was such a sweet little boy....”  Grant buried his face in his hands, sobbing.

“Mr. Grant, if you cooperate fully and the facts we can ascertain corroborate your story, I think it’s possible, only _possible,_ mind you, that in the interests of secrecy your bosses will give you a quiet discharge instead of a court martial,” McGarrett said.

“And what about my son?  He didn’t kill anyone.  He didn’t even have a gun!”  Grant looked earnestly at McGarrett.

“He hijacked an airplane.  There’s no getting around that.  I recommend that you get him a good lawyer,” Steve advised.

“This is all very....” the Governor said, still looking stunned.  “What about the press release?”

“Let me draft something,” said McGarrett with a smile.  “I’ll have it to you in an hour.”

“Wait!” Simons protested.  “Just because we were taken in by this...this man, doesn’t mean that our goal with respect to Santiago isn’t perfectly valid.”

“It’s over,” Harkness said bluntly.  “We can’t risk having it come out that an Intelligence agent was compromised this way.”

“But still....” Simons protested.

“Enough,” the Governor said firmly.  “Steve, write your press release.  Gentlemen, you can all look it over before we send it out.”

As McGarrett and Williams returned to Iolani Palace, Danny said, “I’d like to go visit Captain Carlton before the press conference.  And get my hair cut.”

“Good idea, Danno,” Steve said.  “See if you can hunt down Mrs. Miller at the hospital.  I have a feeling we’re going to need all the support we can get....”

* * *

At Queen’s Hospital, Danny had no difficulty finding Lauren Miller, as he ran into her in the elevator on his way to intensive care.

“Hi, Danny!” Lauren exclaimed, giving him a hug.  “You look so much better.”

“It’s nice to see you again under happier circumstances,” he said, smiling.  “You’re not working today?”

“I don’t start until next week,” she told him.  “I just dropped by to see how Captain Carlton was doing.”

The charge nurse in intensive care, recognizing Lauren and Danny, told them, “Normally we only allow one visitor at a time, but I suppose you four have some catching up to do.  Just five minutes, though.”

“Us _four_?” Danny asked, puzzled.

His question was answered when they opened the door of Carlton’s room to find Gracie, the tall, blonde flight attendant the hijackers had held at gunpoint, sitting close beside the bed in which the pilot lay looking pale, his head swathed in white bandages.

She jumped to her feet, blushing.  “I...I just stopped by to read to John...I...I mean, Captain Carlton, for a bit,” she said, holding up a battered copy of _Seven Days in May_ as evidence _._

“I sure appreciate it.”  Carlton smiled at her, making her blush again.

“I’m so glad to see you awake,” Lauren said earnestly, automatically straightening his blanket.

“I understand I have you to thank for me staying alive long enough to get off that plane,” the pilot told her.  “And I’m very glad to see the two of you made it out in one piece.  Well, mostly in one piece,” he added, surveying Danny’s bandages.

“Nothing serious,” Williams claimed.

“I heard from your detective that Five-O got everyone off the plane and took care of the hijackers, nice and neat,” Carlton said approvingly.

“That reminds me....” Danny began.  He gave his companions a quick rundown of the morning’s revelations.  “Steve wanted me to ask you to come to the press conference,” he said to Mrs. Miller.

“Of course!” she said.  “The nerve of them, trying to blame _you_ for what happened!”

“I’m coming, too,” Gracie declared.

“Give ’em hell,” Carlton said.  “I wish I could be there myself....”

“You just concentrate on getting better,” Lauren told him firmly.

* * *

And so, once again Danny stood beside Steve on the steps of the Iolani Palace.  This time he was surrounded not only by Chin and Kono, but also by Mrs. Miller, her husband Bob, and Gracie.  On Steve’s other side stood the Governor, Simons, looking sullen, and Carstairs, looking pleasantly guileless as always.

The Governor was reading the statement McGarrett had crafted, which had been accepted after only a token protest from Simons.  “...tragic when young men become involved in this sort of crime...lives cut short...use of deadly force is always regrettable...necessary when innocent lives are at stake...our condolences to Generalissimo Santiago and his family....”

Only half listening, Danny’s mind wandered to enjoying how the curl of Steve’s bangs fell over his forehead.  As though feeling his gaze, his partner glanced over at him and smiled.

When the Governor finished speaking, the reporters begin their cacophony of questions.

“Governor!  What about allegations that Five-O acted recklessly in using force?” one shouted.

“I’m not sure to what allegations you are referring,” the Governor answered.  “Five-O acted in the only way possible to protect innocent lives.”

 _I wonder if Simons has been busy calling the press off the record,_ Danny thought.

“Mr. McGarrett!  Since the only person left on the plane when you went in was Dan Williams of Five-O, don’t you think your actions in storming the plane could be misconstrued as personal?”

 _Yep, that sounds like Simons, all right,_ Danny decided.

“I’m sure you’re not implying that Mr. Williams’ life is worth less than that of a hijacker because he’s a member of Five-O?” McGarrett asked, raising his eyebrows.  “There were two reasons we had to go onto that plane.  First, they were demanding a pilot, and we were not going to send another hostage in.  Second, every time someone hijacks a plane and gets what they want, it sends a message that terrorist tactics work, and I was not about to let that message be sent here!” he said emphatically.

Another reporter shouted, “Detective Williams!  Are you showing off those bandages to remind people you’re a hero?”

 _My turn, huh?_ Five-O’s second-in-command thought.  _That was even more personal than I expected._

“I’m no hero.  All I did was get hijacked and beaten up,” Danny said with a rueful smile.  “The real heroes are people like Mrs. Miller here, and Captain Carlton, civilians who risked their lives for others, and of course Steve McGarrett, who came onto that plane _unarmed_ to bring the hijackers to justice.  I’m sorry about the shirtsleeves, but my wrists are still sore, and I couldn’t face buttoning my cuffs over them.  As I said, I’m no hero,” he added, eliciting laughter from the crowd.

Mrs. Miller leaned across him and said indignantly into the microphone, “That’s not true!  He did his best for us with no concern for his own safety.  It’s easy for people who weren’t there to stand back and make nasty remarks, but it isn’t fair!”

“I agree with Mrs. Miller,” said Gracie, leaning in.  “When that hijacker was holding a gun to my head, I was so terrified, I was sure I was going to die!  But Mr. Williams talked him into letting me go.  That makes him a hero in my book!”

“Well, Williams, I see you won’t lack for dates after this, anyway,” said the reporter to general laughter, as Danny looked embarrassed.

* * *

Back up in the Five-O offices, the detectives, the Millers, and the Governor reconvened around a platter of sandwiches ordered by Jenny.

McGarrett gave his partner a pat on the shoulder, saying, “Danno, you were perfect.  And you, too, Mrs. Miller.”

“I can’t believe the reporters would say such things.  What got into them?” she asked.

“Simons?” Danny speculated, taking a sandwich.

“Yeah,” said McGarrett drily.  “I think he’s been busy on the telephone.”

“Well, Steve, I think that went as well as we could have hoped,” the Governor said.

“I appreciate your support, Governor,” Steve said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“I didn’t like seeing our State Police criticized by Washington any more than you did,” Jameson observed.

Danny turned to the Millers.  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said to Bob, a youngish man with blue eyes and wavy brown hair who looked like more of an outdoorsman than a professor.  “Mrs. Miller told me you’re at the University?”

“Yes, I’m a professor in the geology department.  I specialize in volcanology, so Hawaii is the perfect place for me.  I’m just lucky that moving here didn’t cost me my wife,” he said, giving her a fond look.

“Danny—can we talk somewhere private for a minute?  I want to ask you something,” Lauren said.

Danny raised his eyebrows.  “Sure, fine by me.”

“Go ahead, I know you can’t leave well enough alone when you’re curious about something,” Bob told her with a smile.

They crossed the office to the relative isolation of Danny’s cubicle.

“So, what do you want to know?” he asked.

Mrs. Miller looked uncertain.  “It’s really none of my business....”

“After what we went through together, I think you’re entitled to ask me anything,” Danny said.

“Well...I was wondering...about that note you had me write on the plane,” she began.

“I saw you told the newspaper about that,” Danny said ruefully, leaning on the edge of his desk.

“I’m sorry, Danny—I just thought it was so romantic!”

“It’s okay,” he reassured her.  “But what did you want to ask?”

“Well...um....”  She paused, then looked Danny in the eye.  “Was the note for Steve McGarrett?”

“Yes, you gave it to him,” Danny put on a puzzled expression.  _She can’t possibly_ know _can she?_ he wondered, feeling a sudden stab of alarm.

“No, I mean...when you said he’d know who it was for, was it because it was for him?  Is he the one you love?” she asked.  “You don’t have to tell me....”

Danny took a deep breath.  “Yes, he is,” he said, looking down.  “How...how did you guess?”

“Well...the way you looked when you talked about him, it was just the same as when you talked about your ‘someone special.’  And there was the way Mr. McGarrett looked when I gave him the note...he tried to hide his feelings, but I could see how much you mean to him,” she said.  “And you didn’t put even a first name on the note.  Also, you were careful about your pronouns, but just before I left the plane when I said I was sure you’d be together again soon you said ‘I know I’ll see him once more, anyway,’ and it was obvious who you meant....”

Danny turned away from her reached the window in two steps, looking out without seeing, his back to the room.  “Well, now you know, so you can stop talking me up to the press,” he said harshly.

“What do you mean?” she demanded.

“You must be disgusted,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I felt that way,” she said firmly, coming to stand behind him.  “I suppose I might have, once, but my older brother...is...is also in love with a man.  It was difficult to get used to at first, but some of us in the family have come to accept him for who he is.”

Danny turned to look at her in surprise.  “I...well, I think you’re an amazing woman, Mrs. Miller,” he said.

“‘Lauren,’ please,” she protested.

“Thank you for giving Steve the note,” he said.  “You were right, I might have chickened out otherwise.”

“It...went well, then?” she asked.

“Yes, very well,” Danny said with an unconscious smile as he remembered.  _Of course, Steve and I have hardly had time to even talk since then.  I’m looking forward to tonight...._

“Oh, Danny, I’m so glad,” Lauren was saying.  “I hope you and Mr. McGarrett will join me and Bob for dinner sometime soon.”

“You really are remarkable.  Bob is a very lucky man,” Danny told her.

“So is Mr. McGarrett,” she said.

“ ‘So is Mr. McGarrett’ what?” Steve asked, appearing in the cubicle doorway.

“A lucky man,” she said.  “I’m afraid I’ve been snooping in your and Danny’s business.”

“She knows, Steve,” Danny told his partner.  “I guess I messed up talking on the plane.”

“Please don’t blame Danny,” Lauren said earnestly to McGarrett.  “He hadn’t eaten in three days, he was in terrible pain, and he was worried about you.  And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.  My brother is also...a homosexual.  I know how isolating it is for him, always having to pretend.  I was just telling Danny, I hope the two of you will join Bob and me for dinner sometime soon.”

“Danny’s right.  You _are_ remarkable,” Steve said.  “We’d love to have dinner, in the event we ever have time to eat.”  He turned to his partner.  “Danno, Harkness’s boss arrives in an hour, and I want to make sure we’re ready for him.”

“Lauren, I’d better get back to work,” Danny said.  “Thank you, for everything.”

“We look forward to meeting you and Bob again soon,” McGarrett told her.

* * *

The meeting in the Governor’s office between the Deputy Director, Harkness, Simons, the Governor, McGarrett, and Williams was lengthy and, when it came to the content of Steve’s press release, somewhat acrimonious, but in the end Wo Fat’s involvement had been sufficiently dissected and there was grudging agreement that Five-O had acted properly.

As Danny and Steve once again climbed the steps of Iolani Palace from the Governor’s office, Steve looked at his watch.  “How about we pick up some steaks on the way home, and I’ll grill them on the lanai?”

“Sounds great,” Danny said.  “I need to stop by my place for more clean clothes first, though.”

“It’s a deal,” his partner said, smiling, as they mounted the koa staircase.  “I want to check in with Chin and Kono, then we can go home.”

As the two detectives entered the outer Five-O office, Chin Ho hurried out of his cubicle.

“How’s it going with the NTSB?” McGarrett asked.

“Fine, Steve,” Kelly assured him.  “I think they have everything they need from us.  I was just getting ready to go home, but there are a couple of men from the Navy waiting to talk to you about Grant.”

McGarrett looked at his watch in frustration.  “Chin, could you do me a favor and give Danny a ride to my place?”

“Sure thing, Steve,” Chin assured him.

“Steve....” Danny protested.

“There’s no point in both of us being stuck here,” Steve said.  “If I’m not home in an hour, have dinner delivered.”

“But....” his partner began, but McGarrett was already striding towards his office door.

* * *

McGarrett drained the last of his second cup of coffee, covertly glancing at his watch.  _Nine o’clock already...so much for dinner,_ he thought, saying aloud, “Gentlemen, we appear to be at an impasse.  I suggest we delay any decision about Grant’s prosecution until someone from Military Intelligence can get here from Washington.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said the senior JAG officer, stretching, and the two men took their leave.

Steve arrived home to find his partner asleep on the sofa, a book fallen to the floor beside his hand.

As Steve tried to divest himself of gun and keys as quietly as possible, Danny sat up, blinking.

“Steve!” he said, smiling as he crossed the room to welcome his partner with a kiss.  “I suppose you haven’t had dinner?”

“No,” McGarrett said, his arms around the younger man.  “I hope you ate something, though.”

“I ordered Chinese.  Yours is in the refrigerator,” Danny told him.

Steve reheated the fried rice in a pan, then the two men sat at the kitchen table, sharing warm rice and cold noodles.

“Sorry, Steve, this was meant to be your share,” Danny said, taking another bite.

“There’s plenty.”  _The food may not be what I’d planned, but the company is all I could ask for,_ Steve thought, smiling across at his partner.

After they ate, Steve did the few dishes, while Danny watched him, leaning on a corner of the refrigerator.  The heat wave had broken, and a gentle rain fell outside, a pleasant breeze wafting through the open kitchen window.

“I can’t believe it was only a week ago that I left for Chicago,” Danny said, as Steve dried his hands on a dishtowel.

“Danno....”  McGarrett turned to his partner, pulling him close.  “Let’s hope neither of us ever has to go through a week like this again.”

“Well, now that it’s over, I think we should celebrate,” Danny said, smiling up at Steve.

“How are you feeling?” McGarrett asked, surveying the fading bruises on his partner’s face.

“Well enough for anything you have in mind,” Danny replied with a smile.  “Maybe we could have another try at...what we did before.”

Steve swallowed hard.  “Danny....” he said in a low voice, and moved to kiss his partner, pulling him close.  At first their kiss was gentle, caressing, but soon the pent-up longing and anxiety of the past few days hit, and they were passionately embracing, Danny’s arms around Steve’s neck, Steve’s hands moving down Danny’s back to curve around his buttocks as he pulled their bodies together.

Feeling Danny’s fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, Steve stilled the younger man’s hands against his chest.  “Let me take care of everything,” he said into his partner’s ear, brushing his lips lightly against the sensitive curves.  He unbuttoned his own shirt, then went to work on Danny’s, sliding his hands underneath to smooth them over bare tanned skin, mottled with healing bruises.  “Stop me if I do anything that hurts you,” he said.

“Steve...maybe we should go to the bedroom,” Danny suggested, his voice uneven.  They moved in that direction, still touching, kissing, unwilling to break apart.  When they got inside, Steve took off his monogrammed cufflinks, setting them carefully on the dresser, dropped his shirt, then started towards the floor lamp in the corner.

Danny stopped him.  “Do you mind if we keep the lights off?  I know I look pretty awful still.”

“You look beautiful to me—alive, and in one piece,” Steve said, sliding Danny’s shirt off and tossing it aside. _Being able to touch him like this...something I took too much for granted,_ he thought, leaning down to kiss along one muscular shoulder. __

“I’m afraid they had to make my hair pretty short to hide the missing bit,” Danny said, running a hand over his close-cropped sandy curls.

“It looks great, Danno.  Very regulation,” Steve assured him somewhat indistinctly, his mouth against Danny’s neck.  He steered his partner over to the edge of the bed, unfastening Danny’s suit pants on the way, capturing the younger man’s mouth in a fierce kiss as he pulled down pants and briefs.

“Steve, you’re still wearing too much clothing,” Danny said breathlessly as his partner seated him on the edge of the bed.

“I can do something about that,” McGarrett answered, hastily stripping off his pants before kneeling in front of his partner, trailing kisses down his flat stomach, then taking him into his mouth.

Danny groaned as Steve began to move up and down the younger man’s erect shaft, his hand and tongue working together.  “Steve....” he gasped, sliding his fingers into his partner’s dark hair, all pain forgotten.

When Steve could feel Danny moving towards his climax he stood, gently leaning his partner back onto the bed and then joining him, their bodies illuminated only by the city lights shining faintly through the sheer curtains of the lanai.

McGarrett lay half on top of his partner, sliding their stiff cocks against each other with one hand as he devoured Danny’s mouth.  _Danno, I promise I’ll make it good for you this time,_ he thought.  _Make up for all the missed chances...._

Steve licked one finger and circled Danny’s nipple, causing his partner to dig his fingers into Steve’s shoulders, arching his back.

 _I’ve got to take it slow, not hurt him,_ McGarrett thought desperately.  _But, god, I need to be inside him, now...._ He moved so that he lay behind Danny, reaching around to stroke his partner’s cock, teasing Danny’s earlobe with his tongue and teeth. __

“Steve, please....” Danny begged, his breath coming in ragged gasps.  “Now....”

Steve leaned across to open the drawer of the nightstand. __

As though triggered by his action, the telephone beside the bed rang.

The two men froze in place for a second.  Then, as the phone rang again, Steve rolled onto his back in frustration, gasping.  He sat up and reached for the receiver.

“McGarrett,” he managed.

“Steve?  You sound out of breath,” the governor said.

“What can I do for you, Governor?” Steve asked in a determinedly even voice, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the phone receiver.

“The Senator has just returned from Washington, and he wants a briefing on the hijacking,” the Governor replied.

“I’ll be in your office first thing tomorrow morning,” McGarrett promised as Danny moved to sit behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist.

“I’m afraid he really wants to meet now.  Apparently he feels it’s urgent that he be informed,” Jameson said.

  1. He was finding Danny’s head resting against his shoulder somewhat distracting to his thought processes.



“I’m afraid he does.  He’s on his way here already.  What’s the problem, Steve?  Don’t tell me you have a date,” the Governor said, laughing.

 _I will reach through this telephone and strangle you,_ McGarrett thought.

“Oh....” the Governor said, having put two and two together.

“It’s one thing to get called out on a case,” McGarrett snapped belatedly.  “It’s another to lose sleep because a politician has decided he’s too important to just read the report.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Jameson said.  I know it’s been a rough week for you, and I know it’s rare for you to take any time for a personal life.  But the Senator helped with my re-election campaign, and I can’t say ‘no’ to him.  Please, as a personal favor, come give him a brief report.”

“If you ask that way, I can’t say ‘no’ to you, either,” McGarrett said in resignation.

“Oh, and bring Williams with you.  The Senator wants to see him, too,” the Governor added.

“After all he’s been through, you want me to drag him out of his bed at this hour of the night?”  Steve protested.  _Or out of my bed, anyway...._

“I’m afraid so.  And I don’t want to keep the Senator waiting any longer than necessary....”

McGarrett sighed.  “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“I _am_ sorry, Steve.  Maybe she’ll wait for you,” the Governor said, the sound of a smile lurking in his voice.

“Aloha,” McGarrett said through clenched teeth, carefully replacing the receiver.

“ _Steve,_ ” Danny protested.  “Twenty minutes?  We’ll have to leave right now!”

“I’m sorry, Danno,” Steve said, turning to his partner, still sitting on the bed behind him.  “I tried to get you off the hook, at least, but no dice.”

“If you have to go, no point in me staying here,” said Danny, climbing off the bed.  “We never seem to get a break, do we?  I wish we could go away somewhere with no phones, no cases, no politicians...just for a little while.”

* * *

After a quick wash up they re-dressed and drove through the deserted streets to the State Capitol.  McGarrett felt the weariness that had miraculously receded when he was in bed with his partner descending on him again.

They entered the Governor’s office to see the man himself behind his desk and the Senator in one of the chairs in front of it.

“Senator, this is Steve McGarrett and Danny Williams.  Steve, Danny, help yourself to coffee,” Jameson said, waving at the carafe and stack of cups on one corner of the desk.

“Ah, the heroes of the hour,” the Senator observed.

“Senator,” the head of Five-O said briefly, pouring coffee for himself and his partner.  Taking a seat, he continued, “Have you read my report?  No reason to waste time going over things you already know....”

“I had an aide skim it for me, but maybe you could summarize the main points,” the Senator said cheerfully.

An hour later, the Governor declared, “Well, gentlemen, I think that covers things.  It’s time we should be getting to our beds.”

 _Just going to bed with Danny next to me sounds like paradise right now,_ Steve thought tiredly, as the Senator took his leave.

The telephone on the desk rang.

“Hm, I think the HPD switchboard are the only people who know anyone’s here.  I thought they might need to reach Steve,” the Governor said, picking up the receiver and telling it, “Jameson here.”

There was a pause as the Governor listened, then he wordlessly passed the receiver to Steve.

“McGarrett,” the head of Five-O snapped into the phone.

“Mr....Mr. McGarrett,” said the voice on the phone.  “I’m at the scene of an automobile accident.  On Pacific Heights Road.  The car went over the edge of a cliff.”

“Why is that a Five-O matter?” McGarrett demanded.

“It’s a hit and run accident.  And we’ve identified the victims in the car as Tony Medici and two of his associates,” the voice said excitedly.

“I’m on my way,” Steve said, standing and leaning across the desk to replace the receiver.  _Why did that officer sound familiar?_ he thought in passing.

“A case?” Jameson asked.

“Tony Medici was killed in an apparent hit and run accident,” McGarrett announced.

Danny gave a whistle.  “An accident, huh?  I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“You’ll get your chance,” Steve told him.  “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” the Governor said, walking out with them.  “Do you want to borrow the phone before you go?”

“No, thank you,” Steve said between his teeth.

“What was that about?” Danny asked, as they hurried out to McGarrett’s car.

“The Governor concluded earlier that he interrupted a date,” Steve said.

“Well, he was right about that, in a way,” Danny said, laughing.

“Mm, yes,” his partner agreed.  “I guess he thought she might be waiting up for me.”

“I’d tell her she was wasting her time,” Danny said with a rueful smile as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

“Danno....” Steve said, pulling the big car into the street.  “I’m sorry we haven’t had more time together recently.”

“It’s not your fault Steve,” his partner assured him.  “Blame the criminals of the world beating a path to our door.”

 _Danny may not blame me, but I need to do something about it.  How long has it been since we had an uninterrupted day off, a month?_ McGarrett thought in frustration. __

When the Five-O detectives arrived at the accident scene, they found a lab crew going over the roadway, supervised by a familiar face.

“Danny!” exclaimed Gerald Claybairn, dropping his notebook, then, as he attempted to retrieve it, his pencil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Danny said, picking up the pencil and handing it to the HPD detective.  “How are things working out with your new partner?”

“He just transferred in from the mainland, so he’s still being nice to me,” Claybairn said.  “He’s over there now watching them try to pull the car up.”  He gestured towards a team involved with lengths of chain and a truck with a large winch.

“At least I take it you’ve managed not to shoot him so far,” McGarrett said drily.  “Now, how about a rundown?”

“Of...of course, Mr. McGarrett,” Claybairn said.  “So far the lab tells me that it looks like the car was speeding when it was sideswiped by another vehicle, lost control, and went off the road.  All three passengers were killed.”

“Was the collision intentional?” McGarrett snapped.

“We c...can’t say,” the HPD detective said anxiously.  “The lab team say they need to examine the car further and go over the road in the daytime.”

“Can you tell us anything about the other car, the one that hit them?” Danny asked.

“It was dark green, and should have damage to the left side.  That’s it so far,” Claybairn said.

After speaking to the lab technicians, McGarrett rejoined his partner where Williams and Claybairn stood looking down at the activity around the crumpled vehicle lying at the bottom of the hill illuminated by portable floodlights.

“Take over here,” Steve ordered the HPD detective.  “I want your report on my desk by ten tomorrow morning, but call me right away if you find anything significant.  I’ll be at the office.  Danno, you’re with me.”

In the car, Danny asked, “What next, Steve?”

“I want to talk to the coroner, then go over the files we have on Medici,” McGarrett answered.  “But first, I’m dropping you by your place so you can get some rest.”

“I don’t need rest any more than you do,” Danny protested.

“You’re still recovering from the hijacking,” his partner said gently.  “I want you to take tomorrow morning off and catch up on your sleep.” __

They pulled up in front of the building.  “Come up for a minute?” Danny asked.

“I’d better not,” said Steve.  “Good night, Danno.”  _Two days since he got off that plane, and I’ve had him sleeping on his office floor and working a case after midnight.  I can’t be selfish just because I want to have him with me...._ he thought.

“Good night, Steve,” the younger man said resignedly, closing the car door behind him.

McGarrett watched Danny walk towards the door of his building.  When he reached it, he turned back and gave a little wave, then went inside.

* * *

On the fourth floor, Danny opened the door to his apartment.  It was decorated in warm browns, but tonight it felt cold and empty.  He dropped wearily onto the couch, loosening his tie.

The doorbell rang.  He stood, walked over and opened the door, too tired to give any thought as to why someone would be visiting at this hour.

“Steve?”  Danny said in surprise.

McGarrett stepped inside, closed the door behind him, took his partner into his arms and kissed him thoroughly.  Reluctantly letting go, he asked with a smile, “Is that the minute you had in mind?”

Danny, looking slightly dazed, managed, “Yes, something like that.”

“Good night, Danno.  Get some rest,” Steve instructed.

“Good night, Steve,” Danny said.  “See you tomorrow.”  _Well, I’ll see him at work, anyway...better than nothing, I suppose,_ he thought as he closed the door behind his lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gerald Claybairn is making his re-appearance from "The Second Confession," in which he was Danny's temporary partner at HPD.


	7. Two Perfect Days in Maui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is, finally—the conclusion of Part 4 of The Telephone Rang! I apologize for the long delay between chapters, and I really appreciate the readers who have stuck around, especially those who have bugged me to finally finish editing and post. I’d also like to give a final apology and thanks to United, from whom I have once again borrowed a title. Stay tuned for Part 5, coming, er, sometime!

The next morning Steve McGarrett, reading a report at his desk, looked up at the sound of a knock on his office door to see his second-in-command.

“Good morning, Steve.  Please tell me you went home sometime last night,” Danny said, crossing the office to stand in front of the desk.

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours of sleep and a shower.”  McGarrett set down his report.  “It’s good to see you, Danno, but why are you here?  I thought I told you to take the morning off.”

“I couldn’t sleep, and I figured coming here was the best chance I’d have of seeing you at all today,” Danny said with a wry smile.

“Well, since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful.  Chin and Kono are out interviewing Medici’s associates to see who might have a beef with him.  Why don’t you see if Che can tell you anything more about the hit-and-run car and start trying to track it down?  Borrow some manpower from HPD.”

“I’m on it, Steve.”

Watching his partner leave the office, McGarrett sighed.  _He’s having trouble sleeping, huh?  Not surprising...he needs to get away from here for a while.  He’s right, though, we’re not going to have time together until we settle this case, and I don’t want to leave him alone right now, even if I could get him to go.  And then there’s Grant to deal with, and whatever diplomatic repercussions there are from yesterday’s meeting...well, that’s the job._

Steve picked up the report from his desk and started reading.  After a few minutes, he found that he remembered nothing of the description of Medici’s illegal gambling operations, and instead had a clear mental picture of Danny’s smile over the breakfast table the day before.  _Concentrate,_ he told himself firmly.  _Medici’s main rival in the gambling business is Li Fung, but our informers say Fung’s making a big push into the drug trade right now, so I’d think that would be keeping him busy.  We could use a break in the drug trafficking investigation, too...a break...we never seem to get a break.  I know it’s been at_ least _a month since we had a day off together.  Not since the Howard case...and that mess with Eric.  Though, the way that ended was, well...._   he thought, smiling. _But we haven’t even had a chance to try it again...._

The head of Five-O abruptly realized that his train of thought had derailed once more.  Determinedly clearing his mind, he tried to focus on the report.  _In the shower yesterday,_ _the feel of his skin wet under my hands...._

“Enough!” McGarrett snapped aloud, dropping the folder of papers.  He reached for the intercom button.  “Jenny, get me Aloha Airlines.”  _We’re just going to have to wrap up this case today, no matter what,_ he vowed.

* * *

A bit before noon, Kono and Chin stood in McGarrett’s office in front of a board on which hung a carefully constructed collection of pictures of Medici’s associates and enemies.

“So, what’ve we got?” Steve demanded.

“We know where he was coming from,” Kono said.  “Home.  He had a big place up in Pacific Heights.  He had dinner with one of his lieutenants there, and then they were going into town, according to his wife.  The third guy in the car was Medici’s bodyguard.”

“No driver?” Chin asked.

“The wife said he liked to drive himself,” Kono reported.  “He’d had a bit to drink that night, but she said he insisted anyway.”

McGarrett, pacing, asked, “What was he doing in town?  Any sort of big meeting?”

“Not from what I heard,” Kono said.  “He had an office in back at one of his gambling joints where he liked to hang out with his guys in the evenings and talk story.”

The head of Five-O stopped and looked up at the board, tapping it with his pen.  “Okay, gentlemen, who can we rule out?”

“Well, those two guys at the top are dead, of course,” Chin Ho pointed out.

“Right.”  McGarrett drew a line across the photo of each of the other occupants of the wrecked car.

“Word on the street is that Li Fung is definitely in Singapore,” Chin continued.  “No sign of a feud with Medici.”

“I think we can cross him off, then,” McGarrett said, doing so.  “And Cichetti is in jail on the mainland awaiting trial, so he’s no good,” he added, drawing a line through another picture.  “What about Medici’s lieutenants?”

Chin looked at the second row of photos, shaking his head.  “I couldn’t find anything there.  His top guy is happily married to Medici’s daughter, and my informant said there’s no talk of anyone else making a move, either.”

“Happily married or not, a man could get greedy.  But let’s tentatively cross them off for now.”  McGarrett drew dashed lines through the photos.

“That leaves Vanzetti and Konishi,” Kono observed.  “Both small operators....”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I don’t like either of them for it.  Keep digging,” Steve instructed his detectives.

“Got it, Boss,” Kono said, starting for the door.

As Chin moved to follow him, Steve called, “Wait a minute, Chin.  I have a favor to ask....”

* * *

McGarrett glanced at his watch as he pushed open the door to the lab.  _After one o’clock already.  Well, we still have a few hours._ “What’ve you got for me, Che?” he asked aloud.

“Well, for a start, both cars were traveling in excess of the speed limit, going in opposite directions,” the lab chief said.  “From the tire marks, the green car had crossed into the wrong lane when the driver put on the brakes.”

“Opposite directions...and _both_ cars were speeding?”  McGarrett asked.  “Are you sure?”

“The tracks were unmistakable, Steve,” Che said.  “The green car was traveling uphill going at least fifty miles per hour, while Medici’s car was heading down.”

“Thanks, Che,” McGarrett told the lab chief, looking thoughtful as he headed back to his office.

* * *

Chin and Kono returned to McGarrett’s office to find their boss looking at a street map now tacked to the board beside the photos of Medici’s friends and foes.

“Still a lot of nothing, Steve,” Chin reported.  “Vanzetti runs a numbers racket, but it’s strictly small-time, and there’s no sign he wants to expand.  Konishi moved to Seattle last month and opened a grocery store.”

“I want you to take a look at something....” McGarrett began.

He was interrupted as Danny burst through the office door, calling, “Steve!  We found the other car.”

“Great, Danno!  Where?” McGarrett asked.

“In the HPD impound lot,” Danny said, joining the two men in front of the map board.  “A dark green 1969 Mustang with the left side damaged and with traces of black paint.  The car was abandoned two hours ago in a tow-away zone.”

“Good work,” McGarrett told him.

“It was Gerald’s idea,” Danny said.  “There was nothing on the hot list, but he suggested that it was worth checking for an abandoned vehicle anyway, in case the theft just hadn’t been reported yet.  We checked the registered owner, and he says the car was in his carport last night.  He’d been spending Sunday morning around the house, so he didn’t know it was gone until we turned up.”

“Good, Danno.  Now, I want you and Chin to take a look at this,” McGarrett said, turning to the map.  “The accident happened _here._ ”  He made a cross on the map.  “There are at least three tight turns where a car could have lain in wait for Medici—here, here, and here,” he continued, drawing arrows.  “The car could have overtaken him and forced him off the road.  But instead, the other car comes at him head on and sideswipes him on a relatively straight stretch at a high rate of speed.  Danno, where was the car stolen from?”

“Here,” Danny said, making a mark.  “Not too far from the crash site.”

“What are you getting at, Steve?” Chin asked.

“I’m not sure we’re looking at a hit.  This could be a genuine accident,” McGarrett said.  “High speed, bad driving, a narrow road....”

“The car being hot, that might fit,” Kono said.  “The driver sure wouldn’t stick around.”

“You could be right, Steve,” Danny said.  “What a way for someone like Medici to go....”

“Danno, I want you to go see how the lab team is getting on with the car.  Call me if they turn up anything,” McGarrett instructed.  “Chin, Kono, our priority now is to find that driver, fast!”

As his detectives hurried out, Steve looked at his watch.  _We’ve got the car.  If we can find the driver, maybe we can still wrap things up in time._

* * *

Half an hour later, Danny once again burst into McGarrett’s office.  “I don’t know if it will pan out, but we may have something!”

“Fingerprints?” Steve asked hopefully, getting to his feet.

“Yes, but not from the car.  There are smudges on the door handle and steering wheel suggesting that the thief wore gloves.  But the lab team found a pawn ticket under the driver’s seat,” Danny explained.  “For a woman’s gold watch.  The name is Debbie Holder, and there’s an address in Waikiki.  Also at least three sets of prints.”

“Could the ticket belong to the car’s owner?” McGarrett demanded.

“No, I called him to check, and he said he didn’t know anyone by that name and had never pawned anything.”

“I think we should pay Debbie Holder a call,” Steve said, grabbing his jacket from the coat tree.

* * *

Danny and Steve arrived outside the front door of an apartment on the third floor of a dingy three-story concrete-block walkup, leaving Chin and Kono waiting below to keep an eye on the lanais at the building’s rear.

McGarrett knocked.

There was no answer, but muffled sounds could be heard coming from inside the apartment.

“Miss Holder?” Steve called.  “This is Five-O, open up!”

As the detectives prepared to force an entry, there came the sounds of a woman’s heels on tile, and a female voice called, “Wait, I’m coming!”

The door opened a crack to reveal the anxious face of a young woman with long, straight blonde hair.  “Are you really the police?” she demanded in a frightened voice.

“We really are,” Danny assured her as the two men presented their badges.

“Then come in,” the woman said, opening the door to let them in.  “I have nothing to hide!”

“Miss Holder,” Steve began, “You pawned a watch two weeks ago, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” she said, looking surprised.  “It wasn’t hot, if that’s what you think!”

“We’re not concerned about that,” McGarrett said.  “What we’d like to know is what your pawn ticket was doing in a stolen car that was involved in a hit-and-run accident that killed three people.”

Her eyes widened and her face went white.  “ _No!_   No, that can’t be true!  He said he just dropped it on the ground somewhere!” she cried, backing away from McGarrett.  “He _promised_ he’d keep me out of it!”

“Who is _he_ , Miss Holder?”  Steve asked.

“I...I....” she began, “I don’t want....”

She was interrupted by the sound of a crash from the back of the apartment.

Danny and Steve ran towards the noise, passing through an open door to a narrow lanai crowded with odd and ends of junk.  On the floor beside a small overturned table a skinny, unkempt-looking young man lay groaning, holding his knee.

Ducking under a row of hanging laundry, McGarrett knelt beside the man.  “Who are you?” he demanded.

“I’m...I’m Leon,” he replied, struggling to a sitting position.  “Please, please, you got to help me!  If you throw me in jail they’ll kill me, I know it!”

“Who wants to kill you?” Danny asked, coming to stand on Leon’s other side.

“That guy’s goons!  I took that car, I was just going for a little joy ride, when all of a sudden this other car comes down the hill like _whoosh_ , and then it was just _wham_ , man,” Leon said, slamming his hands together in illustration.

“Then what happened?” Steve prompted.

“Then I split!  I ditched the car and went to get high, just to calm my nerves, you dig?  But next morning I saw the paper, and it talked about how that big gang boss got killed by a hit and run up there, and I knew if you fuzz found me I was a goner!” Leon said in increasing agitation.  “You gotta help me!”

McGarrett sighed and stood up.  “Book him, Danno.  Grand theft auto for now, though the D.A. will probably make it manslaughter.”  To Leon he added, “You’re going to jail for a long time, but we’ll see what we can do to keep you safe.”

* * *

When Danny returned to McGarrett’s office at Five-O headquarters, he found his boss tidying the paperwork on his desk.

“Good, you’re back,” Steve said, getting to his feet.  “Danno, I want to ask you something.  Out on the lanai.”

“Sure, Steve,” Danny said, following McGarrett into the late afternoon sunlight.  “What’s up?”

McGarrett looked at his second-in-command seriously.  “How do you feel about flying again?”

Danny’s face fell.  “I...I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but I suppose I’m fine.  Where am I going this time?” he asked unhappily.

“Just to Maui,” Steve said.  “But I don’t want to push you, if you’re not ready.”

“No, I’m going to have to do it sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with.  I had just hoped that we could....” Danny stopped himself, then in a determinedly cheerful voice asked, “So, what’s on Maui that demands Five-O’s attention?”

“A small hotel, a large bed, and a fast sailboat,” Steve said with a smile.  “I’ve booked us two nights by the ocean near Lahaina.”

“You mean...a vacation?” Danny asked, his look of surprise giving way to a grin.  “With you?”

“Exactly,” Steve told him.

“Won’t people wonder?”

“Fishing,” McGarrett said with an innocent look.

“Can we really both be gone?”  Danny asked, looking afraid to hope.

“Chin should be able to handle anything that comes up, but I’ve given him the number of  the hotel, and they can reach us on the boat by marine radio.  In an emergency we can be back in Honolulu in a couple of hours,” McGarrett explained.

“Sounds great,” Danny said. “When do we leave?”

Steve looked at his watch.  “Our flight’s in two hours, so we’d better get home and pack.”

“Two hours!” Danny exclaimed, laughing.  “What would you have done if we hadn’t wrapped up the Medici case so quickly?”

“Not told you about the trip, and tried to reschedule,” McGarrett admitted, looking across at the State Capitol.  “I didn’t want to get your hopes up and then disappoint you again.”

“Steve, you should have told me,” Danny protested.  “Like I said last night, I know it’s not your fault we’ve been busy, and I’d rather we were disappointed together.”

“Danno....” Steve began, giving his partner an affectionate look.  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They re-entered the office, Steve pausing to retrieve his jacket from the coat tree as Danny headed for the door.

The telephone on Steve’s desk rang.

Steve glared at it, reaching for the receiver.  “McGarrett.”

Danny watched anxiously as the head of Five-O listened to the caller.

“Right now, I suppose?  Yeah, I know...I’ll be right over.  Yeah.  Aloha, Governor.”  Steve replaced the receiver and met Danny’s concerned gaze.

“The Governor again?” Williams asked.

“Grant’s boss just flew in from Washington, and wants to meet about the deal his counsel are proposing,” McGarrett explained as he put on his jacket.  “Right now, of course.”

“No trip, huh?” Danny observed with a rueful smile.

“I’m sorry....” Steve began, then stopped.  “Danno, how are your wrists?”

“Better today,” his partner assured him.  “Kono gave me a ride in this morning, but I could have driven.”

“Good,” McGarrett declared, reaching for the phone.  “I’m going to change our reservation to a later flight.  Take my car home and pack a bag for each of us, then meet me back here.”

* * *

“Well, gentlemen, I think we can consider that settled,” the Governor said, standing.

“It’s too bad the kid didn’t know more about the plan,” the Deputy Director of Government Intelligence grumbled.”

“Let’s not start that again,” his Military Intelligence counterpart said firmly, moving towards the door.  “Wo Fat is far too cagey an operator to reveal himself to a patsy like Lopez.”

As the various visitors filed out of the office, the Governor turned to McGarrett.  “I’m looking forward to your speech at the Chamber of Commerce lunch tomorrow, Steve.”

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be available, Governor.  I’m flying out to Maui tonight.  I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“Oh....” Jameson said.  “Williams, then?”

“I’m afraid he’ll be unavailable, as well.  I’m taking him fishing—I want to give him some time away to recover,” McGarrett explained.

“Well, you’re both due for a break,” the Governor admitted.  “But who’ll give the speech?”

“Kono’s your man,” Steve said firmly.  “Hero of the hijacking rescue.  They’ll love him.”

“When’s your flight?” Jameson asked.  “Do you have time for dinner first?”

“No, I’m cutting the last plane pretty close as it....”  McGarrett looked at his watch.  “Hell!” he exclaimed, bolting from the room.

 _I should have been keeping better track of the time!_ he berated himself, running down the stairs and across the pavement toward the Palace parking lot.  _Maybe we can just make it...._

“Steve!” Danny hailed him from beside the Mercury.

McGarrett pulled out of the parking lot with a screech of tires, aiming the big car in the direction of the airport.

“How did the meeting go?” Danny asked.

“Grant got a quiet discharge and a promise of leniency for his son in exchange for the son’s full cooperation,” Steve told him, skillfully weaving between cars.

“How much did the son know?” Danny asked.

“Not as much as we’d have liked, unfortunately,” McGarrett said, changing lanes to avoid a slow-moving bus.  “Lopez was just a pawn.”

As they neared their destination, Danny looked at his watch.  “I’m afraid we’re not going to make it.”

“I’m sorry, Danno,” Steve said, taking the turn for the airport at a speed that made the tires squeal in protest.

“It was a good try, Steve.  Nothing you could do,” his partner assured him.

As the two men hurried through the terminal, Danny glanced at his watch.  “We’re ten minutes late.  It must be gone,” he said sadly.  “Those things always run on time.”

“The only thing in the Islands that do,” McGarrett said drily.  “Well, we might as well be sure.”

As they approached the gate, a young woman in an Aloha Airlines uniform waved to them frantically.  “Mr. McGarrett, Mr. Williams!” she called.

“That’s us!” Danny confirmed.

“The plane was delayed.  Hurry and get on board,” she urged them, opening the door and gesturing towards the waiting aircraft below.

As Danny and Steve settled into their seats, two attractive stewardesses approached their row.  “We’re so glad you made it!” the brunette said earnestly.

“We are, too!” Danny said.  “We’re lucky the flight was delayed.”

“Well....” the blonde stewardess began, “Marie, who was working the gate—she saw your names on the manifest, and when you didn’t show she called your office and your secretary said you were going on vacation and she was _sure_ you were on your way, so, since we’re all friends of Gracie’s, and our pilot today knows Captain Carlton....”

“There was suddenly a little mix-up with the paperwork,” the brunette finished.  “By the way, I’m Stephanie, and she’s Gwen.”

“We’re very grateful for the mix-up,” Steve assured them.

“How’s Gracie doing?” asked Danny.  “I saw her yesterday, but we didn’t really get a chance to say much.”

“She says she can’t sleep,” Gwen told him, shaking her head sadly.  “Too many nightmares.  She’s supposed to go back to flying next week, but I don’t know if she can.”

“I’m sorry.  I know what it feels like with the nightmares.  If she wants to talk to anyone, let her know I’d be glad to,” Danny said.

“I’ll tell her,” Gwen assured him.

“We’d better go,” Stephanie said as the pilot’s voice came over the PA.  “It was so nice to meet you two in person after seeing you on the news!” she added over her shoulder as the stewardesses hurried off.

When the plane began taxiing, Danny found himself turning to look anxiously up and down the aisle.  _I don’t know why I’m so nervous_ now _.  Nothing bad happened on takeoff, or until we were halfway there,_ he thought, leaning back in his seat and trying to force himself to relax.

“Miss, do you think you could find me a blanket?”  McGarrett asked Stephanie as she came back past their row checking seatbelts.  “The air conditioning is a bit high.”

“Of course, Mr. McGarrett,” she replied, moving off down the aisle.

Danny determinedly concentrated on looking at the back of the seat in front of him, wishing he’d thought to ask for a magazine.  As Stephanie reached over him to hand a dark blue blanket to Steve, Danny gave an involuntary start, looking sidelong at his partner to see if he had noticed.

“Thanks, honey,” McGarrett said, apparently obliviously, as he carefully arranged the blanket over his lap.  Having done so, he reached to take Danny’s hand, holding it under cover of the fabric.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Danny protested.

Steve gently rubbed his partner’s cold palm with his thumb.  “Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to hold your hand,” he said with a crooked smile.

“Steve!” Danny said, smiling, then stiffened as he felt the aircraft leave the ground.

“I’m sorry, Danno.  I shouldn’t have pushed you to fly so soon,” McGarrett said.

“Like I said, I’d have to do it sooner or later.  Besides, to go on an actual vacation with you, I’d put up with a lot more,” Danny said with a somewhat strained smile as the plane aimed skywards.  “Steve...thank you for making sure I was with you the first time,” he added softly.

“The least I could do, Danno,” McGarrett answered, giving his partner’s hand a squeeze, and keeping hold of it as he ostentatiously leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

The aircraft leveled out, and Danny found himself relaxing, his hand still clasped in his partner’s warm grip. _Having Steve here makes me feel...safer, somehow, though I’m so glad he wasn’t on that other flight,_ he thought, settling back into his seat.

As the light outside dimmed to sunset, Danny looked over to see that Steve was asleep in reality now, resting against the side of the plane, his long eyelashes dark fans against his cheeks.  _I know he stayed awake last night to try to get the case wrapped up in time for us to go,_ he thought, leaning back and closing his own eyes. _I haven’t really slept much myself for a while, now, but I know I can’t here...._

* * *

Danny awoke as he felt the airplane descending to find he was leaning on Steve’s shoulder.  He sat up abruptly, blinking.  “Sorry....”

“Easy,”  Steve said, feeling the tension returning to Danny’s body.  “Everything’s fine.”

“I know, I just....” Danny began, turning to scan his surroundings, then doing a double-take.  “Steve, why do you have a flower?” he asked in bemusement, looking at the plumeria blossom behind McGarrett’s left ear, nestled against his dark hair.

“I could ask you the same thing,” the head of Five-O said, removing the bloom and giving it a look.

Danny reached up and felt the flower behind his own ear.  “Those stewardesses!”

The culprits came down the aisle, giggling.

“Very funny,” Danny told them.

“You two looked so cute sleeping like that, we couldn’t resist,” said Gwen.

“We work day and night to keep the Islands safe, and this is the respect we get?” Danny jokingly protested.

“We could make it up to you boys.  There’s not much nightlife in Lahaina, but I know a place we could go dancing, if you’d like....” Stephanie said flirtatiously.

“I’m sorry, honey, but we have an early morning tomorrow,” Steve said.  “Plus, I happen to know that Danny’s girlfriend is the jealous type.”

“You have a girlfriend?  Why are all the good guys taken?” Stephanie girl demanded.

“Of course he does, don’t you remember that story in the paper about how he wrote her a note in case he was killed?  So romantic!” Gwen told her.

 “Well, she’s not here now, is she?” Stephanie said.

“Stephanie!” Gwen reproved her, and they giggled and moved off down the aisle.

“The jealous type, huh?” Danny asked Steve, smiling, when the women were out of earshot.  “I’m going to remind you of that next time you deny it....”

“Why, Danno, surely you’ve noticed I’m always willing to admit my faults,” Steve said, giving Danny an innocent look.

After a smooth landing, the detectives were surprised to be met at the bottom of the air stairs by one of the tourist greeters, who called out their names and bestowed leis upon them with the traditional kiss.  “Marie in Honolulu saw your names on the passenger manifest and told me you were coming,” she said.  “All of us who work for the airlines are so grateful for what you did.”

As they walked to the rental car counter, Danny said, “It’s kind of weird being recognized.  I suppose you’re used to it?”

“Yeah.  The people who recognize me aren’t always so happy to see me, though,” Steve said drily.

Danny was surprised to see that their rental was a white convertible mustang.  “Nice car,” he said admiringly.

“I thought you’d like it.  Want to drive?” Steve asked, tossing him the key.

Danny enjoyed the short drive from the airport to their hotel on the beach, where Steve had booked them adjoining rooms.

After entering his own room for the benefit of anyone watching, Danny dropped his luggage and went straight to unlock his side of the connecting door.

McGarrett opened it, Danny stepping through into his room and his arms.  Steve bent down and kissed him, and they stood holding each other as their mouths met in urgent need.

Steve finally broke the kiss, looking at his watch.  “I’m afraid our change in flight time means we have dinner reservations in fifteen minutes,” he said regretfully, giving Danny a last kiss.

“I’ll...go get changed,” Danny said, his voice somewhat unsteady.  When they were both appropriately attired in aloha shirts and leis, they walked to the restaurant.  They sat overlooking the ocean, drinking fresh guava juice from glasses decorated with small purple orchid blossoms.

They ate excellent local fish and talked of sailing, the history of Lahaina, and orchids, avoiding any mention of work or the hijacking, although Danny’s fading bruises and bandages were a silent reminder that they should enjoy moments like this while they lasted.

* * *

On the way back to their hotel, the two men strolled along the beach, watching the moonlight catch the crests of the gentle waves.  _If we were a man and a woman, we could hold hands,_ Danny thought, remembering Steve’s covert grip on the airplane. _But it’s enough to be here together._   He looked over at Steve and smiled.

“It’s lovely out tonight,” Steve observed, giving his partner an appreciative look.

“But maybe we could walk a little faster?” Danny said, grinning.

“Mm,” Steve agreed, as they quickened their steps.

Having finally achieved the hotel, McGarrett unlocked his room and let them in.  He crossed to the lanai doors and slid them open, filling the room with the soft, fragrant night.

Danny joined him there, Steve putting an arm around his partner’s waist as the two surveyed the view of the moonlit ocean beyond the lanai.

They turned to each other by unspoken accord, and Steve leaned down and kissed Danny gently, their lips parted, tongues exploring each others’ mouths, Danny’s arms around Steve’s neck as he pressed the length of his body against Steve’s. 

Steve made an indistinct noise and deepened the kiss, holding Danny close.

“Why do you always wear these long-sleeved aloha shirts?” Danny asked somewhat indistinctly against Steve’s mouth as he slid his hands downward and started unbuttoning Steve’s shirt.

 “Well...I guess to cover my arms,” Steve admitted, bending to tease his partner’s sensitive earlobe with his tongue while undoing his own cuff buttons.

“I don’t see why.  I like your arms....” Danny said, sliding Steve’s shirt off and tossing it aside, then running his hands over Steve’s shoulders, and down the length of his arms, enjoying the feeling of strength, coarse hair over hard muscle.  “Wear short sleeves for me sometimes?” he asked, smiling up at his partner.

“Okay, for you,” Steve promised, going to work unbuttoning Danny’s shirt in turn while taking the opportunity to press his lips to the newly-bared skin of Danny’s neck.

“I’m afraid at any minute we’ll get a call that someone has an atomic bomb in Honolulu or that Wo Fat has parachuted onto the roof of the Capitol Building,” Danny said somewhat breathlessly, reaching to unfasten Steve’s pants.

“Chin won’t bother us if it’s anything less alarming than that, so I think we can take our time for once,” Steve reassured him as he kicked off pants and underwear with a  haste belying his words.  When he moved to slide Danny’s unbuttoned shirt off, his partner stopped him.

“Wait, Steve,” Danny said, going to the light switch beside the door. “Do you mind?” he asked, his finger on the switch.

“Danno.... Steve began.  “You’re right, it would be a shame to waste the moonlight,” he finished.

Danny flipped the switch to turn off the overhead light, watching appreciatively as Steve went to pull the drapes back.  As the silvery illumination streamed into the room, Danny found himself admiring the way it turned his lover’s body into a study in light and shadow.  _Like a statue...a curl of dark hair falling over his pale forehead, dark fans of eyelashes, high cheekbones washed in moonlight, strong angles of white shoulders, a mat of dark hair on his chest, leading down in a line to his marble shaft, rising from a pool of darkness...._ He realized he had stopped halfway through taking off his pants and that Steve was standing looking at him, hands on hips, his eyebrows raised quizzically.  “I’m sorry, I was just thinking how...how you looked....”  Danny said, hastily divesting himself of pants and briefs and desperately hoping the moonlight hid the flush he could feel rising is his face.

“Less looking, more touching,” Steve replied with a smile in his voice, meeting Danny beside the bed and bending down to kiss him.

“Mm,” Danny managed in answer, his hands running over Steve’s strong back as they stood together in the moonlight, their naked bodies pressed close together as the fitful breeze caressed them.  Danny slid his hands lower, cupping Steve’s buttocks and pulling their hips together to bring them into more intimate contact.

Steve slid a hand between them, holding both their cocks and stroking, Danny groaning in pleasure against his mouth.

The telephone rang.

* * *

The two men turned to regard the instrument in much the same way as if it had suddenly transformed into a poisonous snake on the nightstand.

Steve deliberately walked around the bed, sat down, and picked it up.  “McGarrett,” he said flatly, thinking, _Unless it really is an atomic bomb, I’m going to kill Chin._

“Mr. McGarrett, this is the front desk,” said an unfamiliar voice.  “I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but the young ladies were very insistent.”

“Young ladies?” Steve asked in bemusement, as Danny came to sit beside him on the bed.

“They say they’re stewardesses and that they met you on the flight over.”

“Stewardesses?  What...what do they want?”  Steve asked, having to stifle a gasp as Danny, reassured that the call was not a summons from Honolulu, leaned over and lowered his mouth over Steve’s cock.

“To see the two of you, if you’re available,” said the voice on the telephone.

“Please tell them that I’m very sorry, but we’re...already in bed,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice even.

“Of course, and I apologize for having disturbed you,” answered the desk clerk.  “Good night, Mr. McGarrett.”

“Yeah...good night,” McGarrett said distractedly, replacing the receiver.

“You tell them, Steve,” Danny said indistinctly, continuing to work on Steve’s cock.

Steve groaned, pulling Danny up and kissing him, then rolling onto the bed with him.  He trailed kisses to Danny’s ear, then downwards to his chest, teasing one hard nipple with his mouth until Danny arched his back beneath him, his hands clinging to Steve’s shoulders.

“Danny,” Steve said softly into the younger man’s ear.  “Do you want to...give things another try?”

“Yes,” Danny said breathlessly, writhing under the touch of Steve’s tongue and fingers.

Steve kissed his way down Danny’s chest and stomach, pausing briefly to dart his tongue into his partner’s navel, until he reached the head of Danny’s cock.  He licked along its erect length then closed his lips over the top.

Danny moaned, as Steve slid his mouth and hand up and down his shaft, while sliding his free hand lower to caress Danny’s balls.  “Steve, I can’t last too much longer this way,” he gasped.

“Just...hang on one second,” Steve groaned, as he hurried to retrieve a small jar from his suitcase.  _Should have remembered to get this out earlier._

Returning to the bed, Steve once again lay beside his partner.  As he continued stroking Danny’s cock with one hand, with the other he slid one lubricated finger back and gently worked it into Danny’s ass, eliciting a groan and an involuntary movement of Danny’s cock.  He carefully added a second finger, keeping up the motion of his other hand on Danny’s shaft until Danny gasped, “Steve... _now_....”

“Ready?” Steve asked, withdrawing his fingers and moving so he could see his partner’s face.

Danny looked up at McGarrett, his blue eyes dark with passion. “Yes...Steve, please....”

As Steve positioned himself so that he lay on his right side behind Danny, he desperately ordered himself, _Take it slow, stay in control.  Don’t think about him looking at you like that, asking...._ He reached around with his left hand to continue to stroke Danny’s cock, while teasing Danny’s ear with his lips and tongue.  With his right hand he slid the tip of his lubricated cock along the crack of Danny’s ass, then aligned it properly and applied gentle pressure.  As the tip slid in, he could feel Danny tense.

“Easy, easy, just relax,” he said softly into Danny’s ear.  “Here.”  He guided Danny’s left hand back to his hip.  “This time you do it, only as much as you’re ready for.”  He rocked gently, feeling the action of Danny’s hand against his hip pulling him in, then pushing back a little, gradually working him deeper until Steve’s cock was entirely inside.  Steve began to thrust, slowly and carefully, in time with the motions of Danny’s hand.  “You okay, Danno?” Steve murmured into the younger man’s ear.

“Yes, I’m...I’m fine.”

Steve struggled for control as he felt Danny around him, slick and tight.  _Careful, careful, don’t hurt him this time...oh GOD, that feels good...._ ”Danno....” he moaned, increasing the tempo of his movements.  He adjusted their position so he was lying half on top of Danny, trying to find just the right angle.  _I want to make this good for him...maybe like this...._

Danny’s breath was coming in ragged gasps now.  He had released Steve’s hip, giving his partner control, and as Steve got things right he clenched his hand in the sheet, crying,  “Ah!...Yes!...STEVE!”

“Careful, Danno...the neighbors,” McGarrett said into the ear beneath his lips with a smile in his voice.  Danny turned his face into the pillow, but Steve said, “Here, let me,” sliding his right arm under Danny’s head and covering his mouth gently with his hand.

Danny groaned, and McGarrett thrust faster, echoing the motion with his left hand on Danny’s cock, feeling his partner’s breath coming in gasps against his hand.  Then Danny opened his mouth and traced Steve’s palm with his tongue.

That small added touch was almost too much for Steve, who groaned, biting the top of Danny’s shoulder as he fought for control.  He arched his back and struggled to keep his strokes gentle, but Danny was moving his hips against him now, and moaning against his hand, and Steve gave in to the full extent of his passion, their bodies coming together in a pounding rhythm.  He felt Danny reach his peak, spattering his stomach and Steve’s hand with hot liquid and pushing Steve over the edge, too, thrusting repeatedly as he came deep inside his partner before they both collapsed shuddering in the aftermath, Steve still inside Danny, his arms wrapped around him, too spent to move.

* * *

Some time later, Steve felt Danny stir.  He slid out as gently as he could, and Danny rolled over to lie in his embrace.

“Steve....” he said sleepily, “That was amazing....”

Steve brushed his lips against Danny’s hair and held him close.

* * *

The next morning, as light and a pleasant breeze came in through the open lanai doors, Steve woke Danny with a gentle kiss and was rewarded by the sleepy smile that he loved.  “Good morning, Danno.”

“Morning, Steve.  What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty.  We’re scheduled to pick up the boat at ten.  The owner assured me that we’d never catch anything starting so late, but I figured we might want to sleep in a bit,” Steve said, smiling.

“Good thinking,” Danny said, sitting up and stretching somewhat gingerly.  “You know, this is the first night since it happened that I haven’t had any nightmares.”

“That’s good.  I was afraid that flying again might have made things worse,” McGarrett said, looking away.  “Danno...I....”

 “No regrets on this trip,” Danny interrupted him firmly.  “Now, how about a shower?  I feel kind of...sticky.”

“I’m afraid we both are,” Steve said ruefully, as he followed Danny to the bathroom.  _He’s walking a little stiffly...God, I hope I didn’t hurt him this time._

Danny paused in front of the sink, looking critically into the mirror.  He peeled the square of bandage from his temple, revealing a mostly-healed cut surrounded by fading bruises and a small patch of closely-cropped hair.

McGarrett came to stand behind him, putting his hands on the younger man’s shoulders.  “How do you feel?”

“A little sore.  Extremely happy,” Danny said, smiling at his partner in the mirror. “I wish these bruises would wear off, though.  It’s a good thing we’re not going to the beach.”

“I’m afraid this one’s my fault,” Steve said, kissing the top of Danny’s shoulder where his teeth had left a mark.

“I didn’t feel it,” Danny said, turning into Steve’s arms as his partner pulled him close.

 “It was amazing for me, too,” Steve said softly into Danny’s ear.  “Shall we take our shower?”

“What are we going to do about these bandages?”  Danny asked, looking at the thin white cuffs he still wore around his wrists.

“No shower wand here, so we’ll have to try something different.  How about if you stand with your back to the shower nozzle, I stand in front of you, and you put your arms up around my neck like this,” Steve said, demonstrating.

“Is this to keep my bandages dry, or because you enjoy standing like this?” Danny asked, smiling up at Steve.

“Are you saying you don’t?” Steve asked him, raising an eyebrow and looking pointedly down at Danny’s stiffening cock.

Enjoying Danny’s answering grin, Steve reached around to turn on the water and adjust the angle of the shower.  He shampooed Danny’s hair, carefully steering clear of the cut on his temple, then picked up the soap and a washcloth and scrubbed Danny’s back and shoulders.  _Hm, the weightlifting certainly seems to work for him,_ Steve mused admiringly.  He continued his task, sliding his hands around to soap Danny’s front, at which point Danny closed the distance between their bodies and pulled Steve down for a kiss, delaying all considerations of cleanliness.

Steve slid one soapy hand around to curve around Danny’s buttocks, while with the other he held their erect cocks together, stroking up and down the slick shafts.

“Mm,” Danny groaned against Steve’s mouth, moving his hips to thrust against Steve’s hand.

They clung together in the warm spray, their bodies slippery with soap.  Steve’s head was thrown back, Danny’s arms around his neck, Danny’s mouth licking the water from his chest, eagerly pressing Steve back against the end wall of the shower as Steve’s hand slid up and down on their cocks in a building rhythm.

“Danny... _ah_....”  Steve slipped and nearly lost his balance, then slid down the wall to the tub floor with Danny sitting between his thighs, his feet behind Steve’s hips, his arms still around Steve’s neck.

“Steve...” Danny moaned, leaning forward to kiss Steve’s mouth with urgent passion as Steve’s hands kept up their rhythm.

McGarrett ended up lying back against the tub with Danny sprawled half on top of him, one knee bent.  They were desperately clinging together with no regard for the awkwardness of their position, their mouths passionately joined, tongues meeting and probing, as the water streamed down their faces and Steve’s hands brought them, together, shuddering to their climax, the thick, hot liquid joining the water dripping down their bodies.

“God...Danno....” Steve gasped when he could talk again.  He cleared his throat. “I had no idea you were that flexible,” he said, smiling.

“I don’t think I am,” Danny said ruefully, as they untangled themselves and he stood up, wincing slightly.  He looked down at his sodden wrists and laughed.  “I’m afraid our plan to keep my bandages dry was a complete failure.”

They washed up, then Steve carefully dried and re-dressed Danny’s wrists.  “These look better, but be careful with them on the boat.  I think we’d better leave pulling on lines to me and let you take the wheel.”

“I’ll do my best not to run us aground,” Danny said with a grin.

* * *

They stopped by a restaurant in town for a quick breakfast and to pick up the picnic basket Steve had arranged, then drove out to the marina to meet Peter Hardy, the owner of their boat for the day.  They found him in the office having a heated discussion with the marina’s manager, apparently about the payment of his slip rental.

“McGarrett...right,” Hardy said abstractedly, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out a set of keys.  “Been a while, hasn’t it?  Nice to see you again.  Er...you wouldn’t mind paying in advance, would you?”

“In hot water again, Pete?” McGarrett asked, extracting his wallet and counting out bills.

“Well, you know how it is with a boat.  She’ll take all you’ve got and then keep asking for more.  Worse than a woman,” Hardy complained, accepting Steve’s money and handing over the keys.  “Slip 12.  Fishing gear is in the starboard locker.  I have to settle up some things here,” he said with a sidelong glance at the angry manager.  “But you’ll figure her out, no problem.  Good fishing....”

Leaving the boat’s owner to his financial negotiations, Danny and Steve proceeded along the row of moored boats until they found slip 12, occupied by a trim craft with white paint and red sails called the Mikimiki.

“She’s beautiful!” Danny exclaimed.

“Should be fast, too, with this breeze,” Steve said as they climbed aboard.

Danny stowed the picnic basket as McGarrett moved about the deck casting off all but two of the mooring lines.  “I’m going to motor out,” Steve said.  “Danny, if you could cast off aft, then loosen the front line and hold us steady until we’re under way, cast off, and hop on board?”

“Aye aye, skipper!” Danny said with a grin, stepping back onto the dock.

Steve started the motor on the second try, the unmooring operation went without a hitch, and they headed out into the bay.  When Steve decided they were far enough from any entangling traffic, he set the sails, Danny insisting on helping despite his injured wrists.  Soon, they were moving away from the island at a good clip, looking back at the deep green mountains.

“It’s good to be alive on a day like this,” Danny said, breathing in the fresh air and admiring the way the breeze played with Steve’s dark hair as he stood at the wheel.  “Your friend back there seemed pretty trusting with his boat.  Have you known him long?”

“Yeah, Pete used to berth at Ala Moana.  He headed for Maui a couple years ago.  Not a bad sort...always loved his boat.  There’s something to be said for a life where a man can just pull up stakes and move whenever he likes,” McGarrett mused.

Danny laughed.  “Sure, Steve, I can see you now, cruising between the islands.  No responsibilities, no worries...you wouldn’t last two weeks.”

“We could be together, Danno,” McGarrett said with a crooked smile.  “No one to hide from, no one to care....”

“A nice dream,” Danny said, leaning back against the stern railing.  “I’ll take it in installments.  Until we get back to Honolulu, no responsibilities.”  _If you could do that, drop everything for me, you wouldn’t be you, Steve...and I suppose if I could, I wouldn’t be me, either.  But on a day like this, I can’t have any regrets..._.

“It’s a deal,” Steve said, smiling.  “Now, I promised to show you how to steer.”

He positioned Danny at the wheel and stood behind him, reaching around to put his hands over Danny’s, looking over the younger man’s shoulder.

“Is this how they teach it in the Navy?” Danny asked with a smile.

“Only unofficially,” Steve said, kissing him on the ear.  “Just hold things steady so the edge of the sail stays filled in a smooth curve, with no flapping.”

They cruised smoothly away from the island, the boat heeled over, throwing a fine wave of spray from her bow.

* * *

Danny looked up at the sun, now somewhat past the vertical.  “Well, now that I know how to tack, how about lunch?  I’m getting kind of hungry.”

“Sounds good.  I know just where to go,” Steve said.  He navigated them to the mouth of a small cove, where they took in the sails and dropped anchor.

As the boat rocked gently to the soft swell, the green forested slopes on one side and the blue ocean on the other, they unpacked the picnic basket together.  It turned out to contain a loaf of bread, a variety of cold meats, hard boiled eggs, pickles, and fruit, with a thermos flask of fresh-squeezed lemonade to drink.

“Such a beautiful place, and no one around!” Danny observed, constructing his second roast beef sandwich and leaning back against the rail.

“That’s the beauty of Maui,” Steve said, helping himself to a banana.  “A lot of it is still unspoiled.”

“The water looks nice.  I wish I could take a dip,” Danny said, looking regretfully at the bandages on his wrists.

“You don’t want ocean water in those cuts, antibiotics or not,” Steve said.  “Next time, Danno.  I promise, there will be a next time.”

“Another installment of the dream, huh?”  Danny asked with a grin, taking a bite of his sandwich.  “Sounds good...but for now, I’ll settle for two perfect days in Maui.”

 _Despite the bandages on his wrists and the bruises on his face, he looks like himself again.  Smiling in the sun, no sign of the shadows of last week,_ Steve thought, enjoying the way the sunlight gilded Danny’s blond hair and tanned skin as he lounged on the dark green cushions.  He thought back to another afternoon on a sailboat, many years ago.  _Eric was always smiling, too, but there was a streak of darkness in his character.  The recklessness, the carelessness with feelings and lives...Danno’s not like that.  He’s a true child of the light.  I hope nothing ever happens to change that.  In this job we have to walk in so many dark places...but he’s brought the sunshine into my life these past few years._

Danny glanced over, catching Steve watching him.  He smiled.  “Steve...we’re kind of hidden in here, and we haven’t seen any people or boats around.  Do you think we could take a chance, and....?”

 _I suppose we shouldn’t, really, but he looks so damned good sitting there, and I can’t bear to take away that smile...._ “I think if we keep an eye out for anything sneaking up on us, we might bend our ground rules a bit,” Steve said, depositing his banana peel neatly in the picnic basket and picking up his binoculars to survey the empty beach and equally empty horizon.  “Looks like the coast is clear.”  He took a seat beside Danny and reached over to start unbuttoning his partner’s shirt.

“Hang on a second while I finish this,” Danny said, stuffing the last bite of the sandwich into his mouth.  “Oops....”  He attempted to mop dripped mustard off his chest.

“I’ll take care of that,” Steve said, leaning over to lick Danny’s skin.

“Steve!” Danny protested, laughing.

“Mm...you taste good with mustard,” McGarrett said, sliding Danny’s shirt down over his shoulders.  _That should distract him...I don’t want him to be self-conscious about his injuries this time._

“Steve....” Danny said again, this time a gasp, as Steve’s tongue flicked over one of his nipples, one hand investigating the growing bulge in the front of Danny’s red bathing suit.

The boat rocked gently beneath them as Steve continued his exploration of Danny’s muscular chest, then raised his head to capture his partner’s mouth with his own, running his hands greedily over Danny’s sun-warmed skin.

“Mm...you always wear too much clothing for the beach,” Danny complained, unwillingly breaking their kiss long enough to finish his fight with the small buttons of Steve’s long-sleeved shirt.

“I’m Irish, Danno.  If I get too much sun, I’ll just get burned,” Steve said, as Danny tossed the shirt onto the stern locker.

“Sun cream,” Danny advised.  “I want to see more of you....” He looked appreciatively at his partner, admiring Steve’s broad shoulders and enjoying the way the breeze ruffled his hair.

Steve gave Danny a crooked smile, kissing his way down Danny’s chest then kneeling in front of him to continue the trail of kisses down his stomach to press against his erect cock, barely contained by the red bathing suit.

Danny made a noise of pleasure, raising his hips to let Steve slide the bathing suit down.  “Steve!” he groaned, as McGarrett took him into his mouth.

Steve worked on Danny’s cock with mouth and hand, glancing up to enjoy the sight of his partner with his eyes closed, leaning against the rail, biting his lip.  As he felt Danny building towards his climax, he licked a finger and moved his hand downwards, cupping Danny’s testicles and then sliding his finger into his partner, working it to get just the right angle.

“Ah!” Danny cried, bucking his hips.

Steve moved with him, stroking Danny’s shaft in time with the motion of his hand and the rocking of the boat.

“Steve...I’m going to....”

Danny groaned as he came, Steve swallowing him, the suction of his mouth driving Danny to new heights as he shuddered in release.

Danny leaned back against the rail, gasping, his eyes closed.

* * *

Danny gradually returned to awareness of the world.  The sun warm on his naked skin, the blue ocean and green hills, the soft creaks and groans as the boat rolled on the gentle swell, and Steve sitting beside him on the cushioned locker, smiling at him.

“Steve...” he said, returning the smile.  “My turn now.”  He kissed his partner, moving his hand down to Steve’s navy blue trunks.  “Why are you still wearing these?” Danny demanded, tugging at them until Steve hastily pulled them off.

Steve groaned as Danny knelt in front of him, lowering his head to fasten his mouth over Steve’s already-hard cock.  As Danny moved up and down on Steve’s shaft, Steve gave way to temptation and held Danny’s head in his hands, feeling the soft, wavy hair under his fingers.  “Danno....”  Steve leaned back, eyes closed, totally absorbed in the feeling of Danny’s mouth and hands.

Danny glanced up.  _Seeing him like this, naked, abandoned desire, the wind in his hair, the ocean behind him...so far from the Steve McGarrett everyone else sees, and yet so_ him _to me,_ thought Danny.  _What have I ever done to deserve this much happiness?_

As the wind picked up, the boat moving beneath them in earnest, he also moved more urgently, hands and mouth working in rhythm.

“Wait, Danno....”  Steve managed, attempting to pull Danny up.

“Mm mhmm,” Danny said around Steve’s cock in his mouth.  _About time I tried this,_ he thought.

“Wait!...I....” Steve went rigid and came, spurting streams of hot liquid into Danny’s mouth.

 _Wow, there’s a lot...._ Danny coughed, then managed to swallow.  _I guess this takes practice, too....._

“You okay, Danno?” Steve asked, breathing hard.

“I’ll...get the hang of it,” his partner said, joining Steve on the locker.

Steve leaned forward to kiss Danny, licking his lips clean.  “Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to practice.  After all, we still have tonight, and tomorrow morning...and I don’t see any reason you should go back to your place tomorrow night.....”

“Haven’t you had enough of me?” Danny asked, laughing.

“No matter how often I have you, it’s never enough,” Steve said with a crooked grin, kissing him.

“Steve!” Danny protested, laughing and kissing him back.

* * *

On Wednesday morning, back in Honolulu, McGarrett met with the Governor.

“Well, at least it’s good to have Washington out of our hair,” Jameson said.

“Yes, now we’re free to concentrate on crimes committed by criminals we’re allowed to prosecute,” McGarrett said with a smile.

“You know, Steve, this is the most relaxed I’ve seen you in a long time,” the Governor said.  “I think I should start mandating that you take regular vacations.  By the way, did you catch anything on your fishing trip?”

“Not a thing.  But it does anyone good to get a little sun in his life,” Steve said, with a private smile.


End file.
